Roles Reversed
by Mooncat99
Summary: Your brother's in danger. You should keep an eye on him.'
1. The Call

Title: Roles Reversed

Author: Mooncat

Summary: 'Your brother's in danger. You should keep an eye on him.'

Warnings: For the moment none. There's angst though.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the show 'Numb3rs'

Copyright: Sarah Diaz 2007

_**Roles Reversed**_

**Chapter 1: The Call**

With a sigh, Don grabbed the next file and opened it, scanning the report. Things were slow at the office at the moment. Too slow, if you asked Don. Not that he longed for a murder case or something else gruesome - but as it was, he was bored. They had solved their last case almost eight days ago and no new one had arrived, leaving him with nothing to do than catch up on his paperwork. The most excitement he had had today was that apart from signing off reports from the last five cases, he had put in a request for a new computer terminal for Colby as his old one seemed to have caught a virus that had frayed the hard disc.

Signing off the report, Don put it aside and grabbed the next file.

Damn it, he hadn't joined the FBI to do paperwork!

His phone rang and with great relief, he snatched it up, hoping that it was a new case. "Eppes."

"Your brother's in danger. You should keep an eye on him."

Immediately tensing, Don sat up straight, frowning. "Who's this?" he bellowed into the phone.

His only answer was a soft click.

For a moment, Don just stared at the phone, unsure what to think of this call. Perhaps some idiot wanted to play a prank on him - though, the voice, deep and well mannered, had sounded fairly serious. Slowly, Don put the phone down, thinking. Or it could be some real warning. But from who? And why?

_Your brother's in danger._

His fingers twitched as he recalled the caller's words. The least he liked in all this was that Charlie had been mentioned. The single thing he feared most was the possibility of his little brother getting hurt and even worse, because of Don. Of course he worried also about his father, always, but if it came down on it, it was Charlie's well being that was the most important thing to Don. As much as he loved his dad, it was unavoidable that at some point, Don would loose him to age, hopefully only in many, many years. But Charlie, Charlie was supposed to always be there, to actually survive him. He was the younger brother. The least he owed Don was to spare his brother the horror of having to loose his only brother.

Of course Don knew that this was quite naive. He knew better than anyone just how short life could be and how fast it could turn to the worst. It came with the job. But it didn't matter. This was his little brother. Charlie had to be fine and live forever and basta.

_Your brother's in danger._

And now this. What was he supposed to do with this call? What danger? From the man who had called? From someone else? But who? And if something was supposed to happen, when?

_You should keep an eye on him._

And what was that supposed to mean? Was it a taunt for Don or a honest warning? He always kept an eye on his brother, anyone who knew him was well aware of that. With his job, plus Charlie consulting for him and God knew who else, he had no choice but to be extra careful with his little brother's security.

Damn it! What the hell should he do now?

He should have been singing choirs for being able to do paperwork, thought Don as he snatched up the phone again, quickly dialing the FBI's very own computer geek division.

"Yeah?"

"Hey Matt, do me a favor: I just got a call on my service line. Can you check it up, give me the number it came from?" he asked, restraining himself from nervously tapping onto his desk.

"Sure, just a sec," Matt said bored and Don could hear the tech's fingers flying over the keyboard.

Willing his own fingers to be calm, Don could do nothing to prevent his right leg to nervously twist while he waited for Matt to finish his search.

"Uh... did you say you got that call just now?" Matt asked after a minute, a slight frown noticeable even in his voice.

"Yeah," Don answered impatiently. "Few minutes ago."

"You sure? 'Cause I got your line on my screen right now and the last call coming in is listed at ten seventeen am," Matt responded doubtfully.

Don's frown was back. It was three fifteen in the afternoon now. "That's ridiculous. I just talked to that guy. Admittedly barely thirty seconds, but I sure as hell haven't hallucinated that."

"Perhaps dreamed? Heard you guys have nothing to do right now. Wouldn't surprise me if you've taken a little nap," Matt countered, snorting.

Don gritted his teeth. "No!" he snapped. "It was real. There are any reasons why the call's not listed?"

"Nah, not really. It's not uncommon that we can't get the number but the call should still be here on my list," Matt answered nonchalantly.

"Well, then you better find out how it was possible. I didn't imagine this call," Don ordered him, unnerved, and ended the connection, not giving Matt a chance to throw something more in, undoubtedly another bad joke.

Again, he stared blindly at his file while he thought about this clear and yet strange warning. Making a quick decision, Don reached for his cell and speed dialed his brother.

"This is Dr Charles Eppes. I'm unattainable at the moment, so please leave a message."

With a curse, Don disconnected the call only to quickly redial, listening to the message once again, this time though leaving a message.

"Hey Buddy, you're probably in class. Give me a quick call once you're out."

He fought to keep it casual, but he was well aware that some urgency had still managed to steal itself into his voice. Which was good. He really wanted Charlie to call him back the second he had listened to this message.

In fact, what he really wanted was to call it a day and head out to CalSci and see for himself that his brother was just fine. He was already half out of his seat when the agent in him stopped him to berate him in a hard, commanding tone to not be ridiculous. Some guy had probably just wanted to play him a prank. This short call surely was not reason enough to leave work so early.

Debating with the agent for a moment, the worried big brother finally gave in and Don sank back down, frowning at the phone. If he found out that that had just been a prank and he got his hands on the idiot...

Slowly, Don reached for another file and forced himself to concentrate on the report in his hands.

But he couldn't help it - the call left him on edge.

* * *

"Don?"

Still more than just a bit uneasy about the whole thing, Don jumped a little at his name. With a frown he saw his partner standing beside him. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 16:33. And Charlie had yet to call back. Then again, he did have a lot of classes and it was well possible that he was still lecturing at this moment - or doing office hours. And Matt hadn't found out anything either. According to him, there was no phone call. Heck, part of Don was ready to believe he really had imagined that damn call.

"Yeah?" he answered distractedly.

When she failed to give a response he looked up at Megan. He took in her worried expression and the obvious hesitation in her eyes and composure and felt his stomach clench.

"What?" he snapped.

His sharp tone snapped Megan out of her momentarily uncertainness and she was quick to answer her boss. "I just got off the phone with Larry. Don - there was an incident at campus today."

Don's eyes narrowed as more of his intestines drew together in dread. "Incident?"

Megan nodded and reluctantly met his eyes. "There was a shooting."

"_What?!_" exploded Don as he jumped up, fear gnawing at his every fiber of being. "Charlie?"

Megan quickly nodded. "He's fine," she assured him and Don's heart started to beat again. "At least Larry's fairly certain about that."

His heartbeat stopped once again. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Megan cringed. "Look, I don't have all the details, just what Larry told me and he was... well you know how he is. But from what I got, there had been fired two shots, the first grazing Charlie slightly, the second doing no harm as everyone dove for cover." When she saw her boss go alarmingly pale at the mention of the graze, she mentally cursed herself. Damn it, she was a profiler, not to mention a FBI-agent. She really should have been able to do this better. But truth was that the news had shocked Megan as well and it wasn't the same to bring some stranger bad if not terrible news as to have to tell her boss, partner and friend that his little brother, also a dear friend of hers, had been shot at and hurt. "It's really just a knick on his upper left arm, the paramedics didn't even take Charlie back to the hospital."

At that little bit of information, Don narrowed his eyes to slits and snatched up his jacket. Like hell wouldn't Charlie go and let that _bullet wound_ properly be checked out. His baby brother probably had played everything down and those dense paramedics had bought it. He knew Charlie. That was just what his brother would do - and achieve getting away with. And Don would head out there to the campus to go fetch his brother and bring him straight to the hospital, no matter how much Charlie protested.

Shot...

Charlie had been shot. His little brother... Don's heart constricted painfully, but he willed the panic down. He just needed to get to CalSci ASAP and see Charlie. See for himself that he was really still alive.

"Where are you going?"

Don didn't even bother to answer that stupid question as he strolled over to the elevators, strapping on his holster.

But Megan hurried after him and grabbed his arm. "Don, wait. Charlie's not at CalSci anymore."

That stopped him dead in his track as he looked back at his profiler. What? But... "Where is he?"

"Larry said he left with some detectives to go give his statement," Megan hurried to inform him.

His eyes narrowed some more, if that was still possible. What the hell... His brother had been shot and some harebrained detectives took him in to take his statement? Were those guys crazy? When he got to face them, they sure would hear an earful from him about just what the hell they had been thinking. And _then_ he would pull rank or jurisdiction. Charlie was the brother of an FBI-agent and consulted himself for the FBI. That made this the business of the Bureau. _His_ business. Hell, he should have been notified right away, before...

His rambling thoughts came to a complete still stand. Wait a minute...

Don glared at Megan. "Just when did this happen?" he demanded to know in a low, clipped voice.

Megan swallowed, knowing only too well that Don was not going to like this. "A little over three hours ago."

Three hours? Three fucking hours? His brother had been shot three hours ago and Don only learned now of that shooting? By coincidence none the less?

"That's why Larry called me. He wanted to know if everything was all right. He said he had been slightly surprised that you hadn't shown up within half an hour of the shooting," Megan continued quietly.

Trembling with rage and worry, Don clenched his jaw. Larry was right to be puzzled. That was exactly how it should have been, him being notified immediately and at the scene as fast as possible. Instead... Having the job he had, Don had long ago arranged that he was to be informed immediately if something happened to his father, brother, their cars, at their home or at the campus. Why the hell hadn't dispatch informed him? And even more importantly - why the fuck had Charlie not called him the first second he could? His ingenious brother should know better than to not notify Don immediately after something like that had happened.

Grinding his teeth, Don had to do all but not explode right then and there. Turning, Don stormed back to his desk. "Find out to which station they took him - and get me the names of those boneheads who took him there in the first place," he bellowed as he snatched up the phone to try Charlie's cell again.

Voice mail again.

"Call me. ASAP," Don hissed into the phone, then disconnected to try the house. Perhaps Charlie was already home after all. No such luck though. All he got was the answering machine. Cursing, Don left another message for Charlie to call him right away. Next he tried his father's cell. Perhaps he was with Charlie after all, having been called by Larry. After five rings he was just about to hang up when suddenly, his father's breathless voice answered.

"Eppes."

Don didn't loose any time. "Dad, is Charlie with you?"

"No, why should he? He's got classes until seven then will probably work at least for another couple of hours. I just got out of a meeting myself." His father paused. "Why?"

So their father had no clue that Charlie had been shot. For a second, Don contemplated to fill him in, but really just for a tiny moment. Their father didn't need to be worried right away. First, Don wanted to get all the facts himself. And damn it, he needed to see Charlie! Where was he?

"Donnie?"

At his father's concerned question, Don snapped back to the present. He forced himself to calm down, if only briefly. "Nothing Dad, I just need to talk to him."

"Well, try his cell."

"Voice mail," Don answered shortly. "I thought perhaps he was with you. Sorry to have disturbed you."

"You never disturb me, son," his dad immediately corrected him.

Don smiled. "I know. Okay, see you later, Dad."

"You coming to dinner?" Alan asked hopefully.

Don sighed. "I don't think I can make it. But I'll try."

Chances were high that Don would go to his childhood home at some point today though. It all depended on Charlie and how fast he could find him. After that... Don wasn't sure what he'd do then. See that Charlie really was fine. Then strangle him for giving Don such a scare. _Then_ kill him for not calling Don right away. And then kill him again for not keeping him up to date on his whereabouts after he had been shot for Heaven's sake!

"Good enough. Bye, Donnie," his father said.

"Bye Dad," Don responded and ended the call.

He glanced over at Megan who was still at the phone and slumped back into his chair. Damn it all! He needed to be out there, find out what happened, and most importantly, find Charlie. Instead, he was contained here with nothing to do than to imagine the worst scenarios. What if Charlie had been seriously hurt and it was more than a graze? What if the shooter was still after Charlie, perhaps aiming a gun at his head right this moment?

And just what had happened exactly? Who had shot, who had been the target? Was it random or was Charlie supposed to be hit?

To be killed?

_Your brother's in danger. You should keep an eye on him._

Don stared at the phone and let out a low growl. Was this what the caller had wanted to warn him about? But according to Megan, he had received the call almost two hours after the shooting had taken place. Why warn him afterwards? Why not warn him ahead? Unless it was the shooter himself. Then he probably had had a special fun in giving him that call. Or was Charlie still in danger?

God, he needed to find him!

Why hadn't Don trusted his brotherly instincts and gone out right away to see after Charlie? Okay, he still would have been too late to prevent the shooting but perhaps he at least could have caught Charlie at the scene and he wouldn't be sitting here now, going through hell while waiting on a word on Charlie's whereabouts.

"Don?"

His head snapped up to focus on Megan's confused and worried face. Don's heart accelerated. "Did you get his location?"

She shook her head. "No. Don - I talked with dispatch. They have no recording of a shooting taking place at CalSci. The police never was called in on it."

Don just stared at her, dumbfounded. Then, panic and fear overwhelmed him with a vengeance.

No call in of the shooting?

It took three tries until he managed to make his throat work. "Then... Then who did Charlie leave with?" he all but whispered.

Megan had no other answer to offer him than a helpless shrug.

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: 5 days! 5 days I was unable to upload anything - and no means to get help! Grrr! But well, now it's working again and I hope it stays that way! Okay, hope you like this one. More soon - if they let me load it, that is...)_


	2. More Questions

**Chapter 2: More Questions**

"What do you want to do now?" asked Megan quietly after three minutes had passed and her boss had yet to say something, let alone look at something else than his phone.

Don swallowed. That was the question, wasn't it? What should he do now?

He knew what he wanted - but it didn't look as if he'd get a chance at what he wanted - namely that his little brother would walk in right about now and it would turn out that all this had been a very bad joke - or even better, for Don to wake up and realize that he really had taken a nap and it all had been just a nightmare.

But he was awake, and the doors of the elevator didn't open to reveal Charlie.

Reality was that he had no idea where his brother might be or with whom he was. Nor had he any clue to know where to start looking. Fuck, he didn't even know what this was: was it a kidnapping, a protective move of some other agency after the shooting or a cover-up of said unknown agency or was it perhaps even possible that it was something else altogether? Some twisted game his brother had gotten in and that was now playing viciously?

God, he prayed Charlie hadn't been kidnapped. That would be the worst case scenario.

He tiredly ran his hands over his face, then looked up at Megan, not really meeting her eyes though. "Get your things. We're driving out to CalSci to talk to Larry. Perhaps he knows something more. And I can take a look at the scene and at Charlie's office perhaps," he said and got up.

Megan nodded. "Want me to call in Colby and David?"

Don contemplated that for a moment. The other two members of his team had taken a leave for the rest of this week, starting as of today and as he really couldn't think of anything for them to do at the moment, he shook his head. "Let's first see what Larry can tell us. It's no use to ruin their leave if we don't have anything to go with anyway."

"You know they wouldn't care ab..."

"I know," waved Don Megan's remark away. "Come on, hurry up. Before Larry doesn't know anything about all this anymore either."

Megan knew better than to loose even more time and hurried off to get her things.

* * *

"Larry," Megan warned the professor, as usual lost in his brilliant mind, before Don had even a chance to open his mouth.

Charlie's friend and old mentor looked up, startled, and his eyes widened as he came aware of a worried Megan and an obviously pissed Don standing in front of his desk. "Oh may, when have you gotten here?" he mused, his eyes trailing towards the clock on his wall.

"Just now," managed Megan to get out a millisecond before Don went straight to the point.

"Charlie," he bellowed.

Larry's forehead wrinkled up in confusion. "I'm sorry, Don, Megan, but I'm afraid Charles hasn't yet returned. Actually, I am fairly certain he won't be coming back to campus today."

Don scowled.

Once again, Megan hurriedly intervened. She understood that Don needed to get to the bottom of all this, she too for that matter, but she knew that Larry would be no use to them if Don scared him. "We assumed as much already as well, Larry. We wanted to talk to you and see what you can tell us about what hah happened exactly, this afternoon," she explained calmly, shooting Don a look to warn him to leave her in lead of this interview.

Don's scowl deepened, but surprisingly, he said nothing.

Larry's confusion grew deeper. "Didn't Charles fill you in on everything? Really, he was much more a witness of this terrible incident than me."

Megan sighed. "We haven't seen Charlie yet, Larry."

"No?" Larry asked, perplexed, raising an eyebrow. "This is very surprising. I was sure Charles wanted to head for your office right after he's given his statement."

"What makes you think that?" Megan asked, curiously.

"Because Charles asked me to cancel his classes as he was sure that after giving his statement, he'd have to head over to the office and do some damage control," Larry answered and glanced at Don.

"But he didn't specify that he wanted to come see us at the FBI building?" Megan clarified.

"No, not in as certain ways, but he usually refers to your workplace as simply the office," Larry replied and glanced back at Don again. "And as I'm sure you've had to be very worried about Charles I found it only normal that he would try to go ease your fears."

Don met the professor's gaze and struggled to keep his FBI mask in place. Damn right he was worried. "Tell us about the shooting," he ordered gruffly. "What happened?"

"If you wish. But I already told everything to the detectives." Larry sighed and his eyes took on a far away look. "Charles and I were on our way back from the main hall form a meeting. The meeting had sadly lasted a lot longer than anticipated and Charles was in quite a hurry as his class had already started. Though he had arranged for Amita to cover for him, once it was clear that we wouldn't be able to escape the meeting on time for his class, he was anxious to get back and take over. As I understood it, he is in a critical phase in that special class and Amita, though undoubtedly a well capable teacher of her own, would just not be able to replace Charles wholly." Larry smiled. "Of course, what Charles seems to have neglected to remember, it is quite impossible to replace a young genius mind like his. His students are lucky to have him at all, especially with the increase of his consulting work lately."

Megan and Don exchanged a look, frowning. Increase of consulting work? Charlie hadn't been needed for a while, lately.

Megan turned back to Larry. "I'm sure, Larry. Now back to the shooting," she gently reminded him.

"What? Oh yes, of course. Well, like I've said, we were on our way back, Charles quite in a hurry. We separated where I had to turn right in order to get to my office and Charles had to continue straight on in order to get to his lecture hall. I may have taken perhaps thirty steps when this bang shattered the peace." Larry got that look he got when he contemplated a human problem. "Charles once mentioned that the sound of a gunshot is a quite remarkable sound, similar to a car backfiring, but in the end, quite unmistakable. Of course, Charles was right. So, when I heard it, I identified it almost immediately and looked back, only to see Charles diving for cover behind a tree. I took that as a good suggestion and saw to myself to head to the safety of a tree. Another shot was fired, then silence." He suddenly looked wary. "I fear that were a few very long minutes until I dared to come up from behind the tree and another long one until I was sure that Charles was still alive, despite having him seen take cover myself."

Don couldn't agree more as he himself felt slightly sick at the professor's narrating of the incident. Especially as there was something very wrong with this story. "The shots were aimed at Charlie?" he asked, trying desperately to keep his voice neutral and not let his panic show.

Larry frowned. "I am not sure of that. But Charles was the only one who could have possibly been a target so I fear that that is a very high possibility."

"No one else was on around him?" Megan asked, a little unbelieving. This was a busy campus they were talking about after all.

"Like said, classes had already begun, so no, students and professors alike were either in classes or in another part of the campus." Larry frowned. "The part we were in is always a rather quiet one, too far away from the main areas where the students like to gather while having a free hour or something alike. To my knowledge, no one else was close to Charles who could have been a target."

Megan shot a look over to Don who had paled, his hands fisted into balls. She just hoped they would find Charlie soon. She wasn't sure how much longer Don could hold himself together before he snapped. And when he snapped, she hoped she would be far, far away from him then. Focusing back on Larry, she asked the next question. "So the shots were over and you left your cover. What then?"

"I went over to Charles to check on him," Larry picked up the trail and shook his head. "I must say, I was quite amazed, upon finally reaching him, to see how calm he had taken all this, especially seeing as the first bullet had grazed him, even though it was hardly a scratch, according to Charles." He looked apologetically at the agents. "Not that I think Charles is weak in any way, or easily scared. But I fear past experiences of Charles with shootings like that terrible rampage at your office let me to believe that an incident like today's would leave him quite rattled."

Neither Megan nor Don could blame him for that assumption. If having been asked, both of them would probably have given the same answer.

"But like said, Charles was very calm. He was already on the phone, calling you, I assumed," Larry continued, glancing at Don. "Soon after, the police arrived along with some paramedics. I gave my statement to the detectives while Charles had that graze wound looked after. Then he left with the detectives, I went back to my office and well, that was all." He looked back to Megan. "I called you to see how Charles was fairing." Another glance towards Don. "After you haven't shown up like I would have expected it, I was sure Charles must have gone straight to your office - or you went directly to him. He really hasn't been by your office yet?"

"No," Don answered shortly, not wanting to go more into that, all the while doubt eating at him though. _Why_ hadn't Charlie called him immediately? "And he didn't call me. You say he called someone right away? Why don't you think it's been simply 911?" he wanted to know, telling himself to concentrate on the facts. Everything else had to wait.

Larry frowned deeply. "Because I heard him assure whoever was on the other end that he was fine and that everything was okay. He asked the person not to worry and just send the cavalry." He shook his head. "He sounded very much like he does when he speaks to you, further strengthen my belief that he was notifying you."

Once again not going more into that, Don fixed Larry with a hard glare. "You said the police showed up. What makes you believe that it was the police? Were there uniforms? Squat cars?"

Now, Larry looked truly puzzled. "No... No, now that you mention it I guess I just assumed as much. The two detectives flashed something like a badge though. I must confess I wasn't all that attentive perhaps. While Charles was fairly calm, I fear I was a bit rattled at the unusual experience of being witness to a shooting taking place, let alone one that seemed to be aimed at a dear friend of mine."

And suddenly, he looked every bit as rattled as he had claimed to be, causing Megan to move and put a sympathetic hand onto his shoulders. "That's all right. Everyone would be a little shocked by such an experience."

Larry smiled thankfully up at her. "Thank you, Megan," he said quietly, then looked over to Don who fidgeted impatiently. "May I ask why you are asking me these questions? Is something wrong with Charles?"

No, he was just missing, thought Don bitterly, but pushed the thought away immediately. He may not know where his little brother was at that moment - but it couldn't be said yet that Charlie was missing. Yet. Don truly hated that little word. It just held too much foreboding for his liking. Especially now. "What about the ambulance? Who called it in? You happen to know for which district they drove?"

"Ambulance?" Larry repeated, puzzled.

"You said Charlie had the wound checked out!" Don reminded him, clearly loosing his patience with the professor.

"Right, but there was no ambulance," Larry told them as if that was obvious. "Shortly after the first car with the detectives arrived, two more showed up with each having two more men inside. Two of them were paramedics or at least that was what I gathered from the comments and it was them who took a look at the graze and had it bandaged."

Seeing as those news hit her partner hard, Megan took over once again. "And what did the other team do?"

"Processed the scene, I believe is the correct term," answered Larry. "They took pictures, gathered the evidence."

"And none of them wore any sort of uniform? Or at least a jacket, indicating them as members of the Crime Scene team?" Megan clarified.

"No, I fear not. I did notice that they all seemed to be clad in rather dark clothes, but other than that they seemed to wear plain clothes," Larry denied and eyed them. "Why? Is this an anomaly?"

Don and Megan's eyes met briefly. Oh yeah, that was an anomaly all right.

"What about the cars? How did they look? Did you happen to see and remember the license plates?" Megan continued the interview.

To her disappointment, Larry shook his head. "Hmm, I can't say I paid much attention to them. I would say they were black SUV's though, very similar to those you drive. Nor do I remember taking note of the license plates. But even if I had, I have not the photographic memory Charles has and I probably couldn't have remembered them anyway."

Frustrated, Don kept himself from punching something. "Do you remember the names these 'detectives' gave you? Or from which station they were?" he asked, quite desperately. The professor had to give them at least _something_.

Slowly, Larry shook his head. "No. Actually, I don't think they introduced themselves properly. Then again, I had the impression Charles was familiar with the detectives so I didn't bother to think much more about that."

Don's eyes narrowed. "Familiar? What do you mean with that? Why would they be familiar with Charlie?"

"Well, one of them seemed especially worried about Charles' safety. He was also the one who insisted on Charles letting the graze be looked at. And while I was mostly out of earshot, Charles' body language for sure looked as if he was quite familiar with these men," Larry answered with a slight stutter but then he braced himself and met his friend's worried brother's eyes. "Don? What is going on here?"

His nervousness about this whole interview immediately pitched up when the FBI-agent's eyes closed briefly. "I don't know," was the quiet, defeated answer and alarmed, Larry averted his eyes to look at Megan.

She sighed. "We weren't able to reach Charlie yet. Nor did we find a location on him. Apparently, he never was brought in to give a statement."

Larry did take in all these disconcerting news and felt worry for his friend manifest itself rapidly. Running his hands through his hair, he forced himself to remain detached and thought back to that long half an hour. Finally, he looked up. "Well - did you check with the FBI?"

He shriveled a bit when Don shot him a terrifying glare and even Megan frowned. "I just mean - now that I think of it, while those men clearly seemed to be part of law enforcement," he hurried to explain. "I got much more the same vibe off them that I also get from your team. Perhaps, they were agents?"

Don and Megan's eyes met and Larry was startled when suddenly, Don turned abruptly. "Let's go."

Being no fool, Megan didn't even try to protest and just scurried after her boss. At the door, Don turned and fixed Larry with smoldering eyes. "Thanks, Larry. But next time something like this happens, you call me immediately. Got that? No matter if you believe I've already been informed or not."

Swallowing, Larry could only nod.

The FBI-agent held his eyes a moment longer, then nodded. "Good."

Being left alone, the shaken professor could only exhale in relief.

* * *

"Don't you think you were a bit hard on Larry, there at the end?" Megan asked after perhaps three minutes back in the car, glancing at her boss, well aware that she had probably just risked her job with that one single question.

After talking to Larry, Don had marched to Charlie's office to take a look, nor surprisingly finding anything. Then, after quickly checking Charlie's schedule, they headed over to where the shooting probably must have taken place. Of course, no remaining evidence was found there either. Those guys must have cleaned it up really very well. Nothing even indicated that an attempt on Charlie's life had been made only mere hours before. So now they were on their way back to the office, Don brooding and fidgeting and she... well, she just tried to keep a clear head.

Like expected, Don's answer was anything than pleasant. "I'm aware you and the professor have some thing going on. I don't care about that. But don't you dare to question me in matters that concern my brother, ever again, no matter if I happen to have a harsh word with your lover or not."

Megan's grip on the wheel tightened and she forced herself to stay calm - professional. At least one of them had to. "With all due respect - that was uncalled for, _Sir_."

Don passed her a glare, but said nothing. Considering the circumstances, that was enough for Megan.

"What do you want to do now?" asked Megan for the second time that day now, turning back to the issue at hand.

She didn't like it that Don was quiet for so long before he answered and even less did she like his answer.

"Go back to the office and finish what we were doing," he said flatly.

Her foot going down onto the break, she turned to gape at him. "You want to do nothing?!"

She regretted it immediately as Don shot her a look that should have incarnated her on the spot.

"This has hardly anything to do with what I _want_, Reeves!" Don hissed. "But clearly, I'm out of options. We've followed all leads, it looks as if at least Charlie has really gone on his own free will with those guys, whoever the hell they are, and apart of Larry's statement, there exists no records of this ominous shooting. What do you suggest I should do? Run through all of LA, screaming Charlie's name?"

"What about Larry's hunch that the guys have been FBI? We could check at the office if..."

She got rudely interrupted by a snort. "No agent at the office would be mad enough to not notify me immediately, not if he wants to keep his badge."

Megan had nothing to say to that - it was true enough. Everyone at their office knew just who exactly Charlie was and that if you messed with him, you messed with Don. With the entire team, to be frank. Charlie was one of them, be he an agent or not.

She sighed, suddenly feeling defeated herself. "So you think Larry imagined that vibe?"

Again, Don took his time to answer. "Not necessarily," he finally said, his jaw clenched.

The profiler waited for an elaboration but it got clear pretty soon that Don was not inclined to give her anything more. She wisely let it be at that. In her opinion, she had risked her job enough already that day.

Don was feeling a myriad of emotions, but anger was definitely right there at the top, rivaled only by worry.

He had no idea what the hell was going on here.

He had no idea in what a mess his brother had managed to get himself into this time.

He had no idea where Charlie was or if he was indeed fine.

He had no idea, if what had happened that afternoon was some cruel, twisted joke or a serious attempt on his brother's life. He tended to believe it was the last though.

But he knew, without a doubt, that whatever was going on was nothing Don would like one bit.

He knew that all things considered, his little brother must have been holding back at least something from him.

And he knew, that no matter what, Don would get to the bottom of it. No matter if Charlie or anyone else objected to that or not. And once this was over, he would have a serious talk with Charlie about just what he was allowed to keep from his brother and what not.

National security clearance be damned, if his brother ended getting shot at, Don had a right to know what was going on.

He wasn't stupid.

A phone call that left no recordings, a shooting that hasn't happened, 'detectives' that could be agents, clad in dark clothes and driving black SUVs, Charlie having called them in himself, knowing them, his comment to Larry to go by the office...

The FBI wasn't the only agency with an office in LA. Far from it. And the FBI wasn't the only agency Charlie worked for as a consultant.

His dark musing were interrupted by his phone ringing.

"Eppes," he snarled, unhappy to have been disturbed in his train of thoughts.

"Don," breathed an all too familiar voice into his ear and Don closed his eyes in sudden, utter relief. "You wanted me to call you back? You sounded pretty urgent. What's up?"

As quick as they had closed, Don's eyes snapped open again. Fury was not word enough to describe the expression in them.

"Charlie," he growled.

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: Hmm, seems to keep working with the uploading. Just hope it stays that way. Anyway, thanks for the many reviews for the first chapter. They were wonderful. I'm really very glad you liked it this much. I just hope you enjoyed Chapter 2 as much. More soon hopefully.)_


	3. An Explanation

**Chapter 3: An Explanation**

"Did something happen?" His brother asked, worried. "Are you ok? Is Dad ok?"

Don opened his mouth but no word passed his lips.

"Don?"

And suddenly, everything he had shoved away or bottled up in the past few hours came back at Don and left him spitting mad, words stumbling out of him not fast enough. "What's up? _What's up?_ I'm told you're shot, you've vanished, I can't reach you, have no idea where you are, if you are fine, if you've been kidnapped, official sides can't help because they have no idea what went down in the first place, everything's just a mess, I'm worried out of my mind about you and you have the nerve to call now and ask what's up!?!!"

Silence. Then his little brother muttered a weak "Don...".

Don gripped his phone harder and his eyes narrowed. "That all you've got to say?"

A sigh. "Look Don, I'm not sure who told you what, but it's just been a misunderstanding."

Don breathed fire. Charlie sounded okay enough so finally, he could let go of the near paralyzing worry he had felt for the past couple of hours and launch himself head first into the rage he had held back so far. "A misunderstanding? You're shot and you call it a misunderstanding?!"

Another sigh. "I guess Larry called you, huh? Should have known," Charlie muttered.

"Damn right he called!" Don snapped. "What I don't get is why you didn't call!"

"Because there was no need to, Don," Charlie simply answered.

"No need? No need?! You're being shot at, you're hurt, and there's no need to call me?" Don all but sputtered, the agent long forgotten and pushed back by the angry big brother who was in for blood. "I'm your brother! I have every right to be notified immediately! I swear to God, Charlie, sometimes I just don't get you! You're a genius, for Heaven's sake, but still you pull such stupid stunts, make such unbelievable dense call of judgments that even a five year old..."

"Don!" Charlie tried in vain to interrupt his brother's rant. "Don!"

"... but no, not you, with your three doctors and hell knows what else titles, no, you, you act like the most boneheaded fool that ever walked this Earth. What the hell were you thinking..."

_"Donnie!"_

Momentarily stunned by hearing the unfamiliar endearment out of his brother's mouth, Don shut up. Charlie hadn't called him Donnie since he had been seven years old, at least not when not in a mocking sense.

"Don, I'm fine, okay?" Charlie assured him calmly, now that he had Don's attention. "Nothing happened. I'm sorry Larry gave you a scare but I'm fine. So please calm down."

Calm down? He was supposed to calm down after the past couple of hours he had? Like hell he would!

"Larry must have understood something wrong there. Probably my fault, I should have talked with him sooner. I'm sorry you worried because of that. I'll explain it to you," Charlie continued to sooth him. He sighed. "Please, Don. I'm really sorry."

And all of a sudden, the fury was gone and Don just felt tired. Exhausted even. He closed his eyes and the agent used the brother's weakness to take over again. Opening his eyes, he straightened. "Where are you?"

There was a slight hesitation before Charlie answered. "Downtown. Why?"

"Give me the address and stay put. I'll be there in fifteen," Don instructed.

"That's really not nece..."

"Charlie," Don interrupted him very calmly. "I'm there in fifteen."

Silence - then a deep sigh. "I'll stay put."

"You do that," Don stated as calmly. "Address?"

"Corner West Temple Street and Northern Broadway."

Near City Hall. Don logged that information away.

"Fifteen minutes," Don reminded his brother. "Be there."

And he disconnected, only to stare at the phone in his hand though.

"Is he okay?"

Startled, Don pulled himself together and glanced at Megan. He shrugged. "Seemed so."

"Did he say what happened?" Megan asked.

Don averted his eyes to look out of the window. "He said something of a misunderstanding."

Megan raised an eyebrow. "That's one hell of a misunderstanding."

Don only shrugged. That was one way to word it. Another would be that this was one major bullshit. But hey, he'd listen to what explanations Charlie had to offer. Perhaps then he would remedy his opinion. He doubted it, but he'd give his little brother at least that chance.

One thing was for sure though: this wasn't over yet, not by far.

* * *

Fourteen minutes later, having dropped Megan off at the office, Don idled to the curb in front of his brother and waited for him to get in. He mustered the younger man critically but could indeed not see a single sign that his little brother had been involved in a traumatic experience only that afternoon.

Lining back into traffic, Don went straight to the point. "Talk."

Charlie glanced at him and sighed. "Can't that wait a little bit, Don?"

Gripping the wheel harder, Don looked away from the street long enough to glare at his brother. "_Talk_," he repeated in a hiss.

Charlie knew better than to ignore that order for a second time. "Okay, okay... Jeez. Look, it really was nothing, it was just an experiment."

"Experiment," Don repeated flatly, careful to keep the agent at the front and the furious brother at bay.

"Yeah, for the LAPD," Charlie said with a nod. "There were some serious complaints lately that their reaction times lacks efficiency. The chief approached me and together with a small team we worked out a group of tests to see how accurate these complaints are, where the most time got lost and how to improve the reaction time. Several teams were gathered and over the past three weeks, various incidents were staged and reported over a fake dispatch. A break-in, a robbery, an assault, public disorder, a fire... A shooting. Volunteering targets are as unaware of when the attempt will be made as are the responding officers. I volunteered and apparently, today was my turn."

Don shook his head. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

Charlie threw him an offended look. "Well, I simplified it a lot. Sure, the best thing would have been to have no teams on call at all and let it simply go over the real dispatch. But I hardly need to tell you the crime rate of this city, now, do I? Both the chief and the major were adamant that no real emergencies should be even in danger of being neglected in favor of an unknown staged emergency. So we had to work around that and issue some hard instructions. In this stage of the test phase it was anyway more important to gather all the data and their variables than to test. For instance, how long does a victim need to be able to call in help? How big are the effects of the shock? How long until dispatch can answer it - the test people at dispatch do the real duty, you know, with a special line unhooked to the whole system. They have the instruction to handle those as they would handle any other call coming in. And there are other factors to be considered as well, like the time of day the call comes in, what day it is, what's all going on in the city, how the weather is - these are all important factors that influence the respond time."

For a moment, Don took that in, slight doubt coming over him. He frowned. "Say I buy it, then why weren't there uniforms and squat cars swarming the campus like it should have been after someone shooting openly at a campus?"

"Because this is still only a test. The goal of these tests are not that we get people in a panic or pissed because we cause a havoc for nothing. Nor do we want to cause other witnesses to really call 911 or worse, call the press in on it. Just think what a mess we would have had at hand if suddenly, squat cars come to a screeching halt at CalSci and the SWAT team and uniforms swarm all over campus. The students, professors and parents would have been in uproar." Charlie shook his head. "No, we had to avoid such things. So it was decided that the teams would not drive squat cars or wear uniforms and that the various attempts were only to be executed when the 'target' was alone or empty with no witnesses around." He made a face. "That Larry saw all of today's test was an unfortunate accident. My 'assailant' hadn't seen that Larry was still in hearing distance when he took the shots, firing blanks of course, and I... well, I just forgot to fill Larry in. I assured him that I was fine, that everything was fine, but I fear I simply forgot to mention that it was all fake. Sorry about that."

Shaking his head, Don tried to make sense of what Charlie had said. Trouble with his ingenious brother was that Charlie had a talent to make the most harebrained things you could think of suddenly seem logic and you never knew quite for sure if he was talking about a real possibility there or if it was just a hoax. It made him a great teacher but it also gave him an excellent tool to make others believe just what he wanted. Don remembered well that when Charlie had been four, he had convinced Don for a while that Santa Claus was real, despite not having believed in him for already a couple of years. But Charlie had sounded so logic with his numbers and statistics that for a few days, Don really started to buy it. Of course, back then Charlie himself had believed that strongly as well. Other than when he had been twelve and he had talked Don into doing his chores at home for two entire months in exchange for a calculation on when their teachers would made a surprise exam and on what so Don hadn't to learn all the useless junk the teachers told them to learn. It took him two months and a F in a surprise _math_ test that he finally got it that Charlie had tricked him.

Probably.

Even almost twenty years later Don wasn't quite certain if Charlie really had only told him he could predict the surprise exams so he wouldn't have to bring out the garbage and mown the lawn or if perhaps Charlie's theory just hadn't worked or an anomaly had occurred that Charlie hadn't been able to calculate.

All Don had was his instinct and while he could sometimes blindly trust that, there were other times, most often in relation with Charlie, where his instinct was wrong completely. Still, mostly it was right and he decided, this time, he would trust it once again.

So he shook the head. "I don't buy it, Charlie." He glanced over at him. "Even if they used unmarked cars, the police doesn't drive black SUVs," he pointed out, keeping an eye on his brother's reaction out of the corner or his eyes.

Charlie frowned. "Black SUVs?"

Don nodded. "We talked with Larry, got him to tell us everything he saw. He says the people you called in drove black SUVs and wore dark clothes. That doesn't exactly strike me like the police."

"We had a special enlarged timer system installed in each of the test team's cars that activates the second dispatch contacts them. The devices needed space. So we used SUVs," Charlie answered and slowly, irritation crept up in his voice. "And will you give it a rest already? I'm sorry you've had to worry there for a moment, but this borders to be just ridiculous now."

His hold on the wheel tightened so his knuckles stood out. But Don forced himself to stay calm and even give a shrug, changing tactic. "You're my brother," Don said quietly and glanced over at Charlie. "And I'm a FBI-agent. I get a call you're being shot at, I worry. And I need to investigate. It's how I work."

Charlie's brown eyes immediately softened and he sighed. "I know that, Don. And I'm happy you care so much. But still, Don, you need to ease it down a bit, okay? I'm fine, nothing happened. No one shot at me, not for real." He smiled. "Case solved."

Don gave a very slow nod and for a while, they said nothing and he let his brother believe that the topic was over.

It wasn't though.

They reached the boarder of Pasadena and finally, Don made his last strike. "So if no one shot at you - how come you've been grazed?"

Charlie's eyes widened a bit. "What?"

"Larry said you've been wounded. Only a graze, but still - you've been wounded," Don elaborated, almost casually. Almost.

"I..." Charlie swallowed. "It was part of the decoy. Plan was that while it wasn't a real hit, the victim should be at least a bit wounded. We want to see how fast the paramedics arrive as well. And also how fast the crime scene team is at processing the scene. So I settled for the graze, they pretended to look at it and the others made their pictures and collected the 'bullets'. It's a big and complex operation, the chief had shaken his head as well when we presented him with our plan, but you know me, I need as much data as I can get and they really want to see if they can improve their reaction time."

Don didn't offer a reply this time.

Exasperated and back to being slightly angry, Charlie shook his head and glared over at his brother. "You happy now or do you have more questions? You know, if you don't believe me, which you obviously don't, why don't you just go to Chief Suttner and let him confirm that the LAPD and I are working on this project? Or you can go directly to the major. He set all of this in motion you know? Want me to make you an appointment with him?"

"No, I don't think that's necessary," Don replied quietly and parked the car in his brother's driveway.

"How humble of you," muttered Charlie and jumped out.

Much slower, Don got out of the car and followed his brother. He wasn't finished with Charlie yet though. He really wanted to believe him. He really did. Not just because if all this was true, Charlie wasn't in any danger Don had to worry about - but mostly because he really didn't want to learn that his little brother, never having had a dishonest thread in him and a terrible liar, was suddenly able to lie to him like that. At all.

No, he really desperately wanted to be able to buy Charlie's explanation. But he just couldn't. Too much of it was a bit too far out there for Don's liking. And then there was Charlie himself - he had seemed fairly calm but once or twice, he had slipped up, hesitating a bit too long with his answer. One who didn't know Charlie so well probably wouldn't have noticed it or if he would have written it off to him being your typical absent minded professor. But Don did know him, for all of his life and there were probably only his father and Larry who rivaled him in his knowledge of one Charles Edward Eppes.

And as much as he didn't want to learn that his little brother may have outright lied to him - he needed to be sure. Because if this hadn't been a simple test gone a bit awry as his brother had claimed - then that meant the attempt had been real and that while Charlie had come out of it rather unscarred - he may still be in danger.

Don hadn't imagined the strange phone call he had gotten that afternoon - nor had he forgotten it.

So he did the only thing he could think of to see which was the truth, no matter how much he hated doing it.

"Charlie!" Don called out softly, preventing his brother from going inside.

As expected, Charlie stopped and turned around, eyeing him exasperated. "What now?"

Don caught up with him and he met the angry, but always trusting dark eyes of his brother. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

Confusion joined the emotions in Charlie's eyes. "For what?"

"For this," Don answered and with a heavy heart, reached out and squeezed Charlie's upper left arm.

His breath hitching and then being let out in a hiss, Charlie yanked his arm out of his brother's grasp and stepped back, turning accusatory eyes onto Don.

Don took in the sudden paleness of Charlie, the tiny drops of sweat forming on his forehead and the flash of pain in his eyes and felt his heart sink.

"A blank, huh?" he remarked bitterly. "Since when do blanks leave a graze wound, Charlie?"

His brother broke their eye contact and directed his gaze to his feet.

Don swallowed. "Why don't you tell me what really happened, now? Who shot at you? Who were those guys you left with?" Why didn't you call me? But that last question he left out. It wasn't important, at least not at the moment. Later - later he would see about that one as well.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie raised his head again, his face closed off. He met Don's eyes, calmly. "LAPD and I made a test today that slightly went awry because unfortunately, Larry witnessed it and in turn gave you a wrong impression as well. And this..." he tentatively touched his upped left arm. "This is a scratch I got from a nail in the garage that protruded out too much last night. While the paramedics were there already that afternoon, I let them take a look at it, especially as it would give me even more accurate data to work with. That's all I have to say."

Straightening, Charlie went past Don and up the porch. His hand hovering over the knob, he turned and met Don's eyes once again. "Seriously Don, give it a rest," he told him in a quiet voice before he turned again and went inside, leaving the door open.

Don stared after him, his fingers twitching.

Give it a rest?

He didn't think so. Not for a second did Don believe that all Charlie had on his left arm was a scratch from a nail. He had suffered through graze wounds often enough to know how they look and just how they hurt. A nail scratch would not have brought the pain into Charlie's eyes his squeeze had. A graze however...

His heart constricted painfully as he still stared at the open door, glooming. Even having just seen it with his own eyes, he still couldn't believe that his own brother, the honest, open little brother he was so proud of, had just flat out lied into Don's face like that, even keeping eye contact all the time. Charlie hated lying, one of the reasons why he was so bad at it. And yet, here he had been, and if Don hadn't gotten himself the proof that Charlie had been lying and had heard Larry's side of the events, Don would have believed his story on the spot.

What had happened that his brother was suddenly capable to lie like that? Even more importantly, when had Charlie become such a good liar? And just since when was Charlie so damn good at keeping something from his big brother or refusing him something flat out.

Don was no fool. His father preached him time and time again that Charlie couldn't say no to him, no matter what he asked him to do and Don knew that this was true. And if he really was reluctant, Don had just to move on to plea and he had Charlie. He had used this power in the past, sometimes for solely his pleasure, mostly though for the greater good. And to be fair, this went both ways. If Charlie really asked him something important, Don couldn't and wouldn't ever refuse him, at least not as long as his plea wouldn't somehow put Charlie in danger. But apart of that, Don would do just about anything, if his brother only asked him, just like he knew Charlie would do the same thing for him.

But now, this time, all of a sudden, Charlie had said no to Don. Had refused to give him a straight answer, tell him the truth. And not just in some unimportant matter - oh no, it was after someone had _shot_ Charlie and his life may be in danger right now.

That was unacceptable.

Don needed to know what was going on in order to keep his brother safe. Couldn't Charlie see that? Didn't he know that Don could not loose his little brother, that he had to do whatever was in his power to keep him alive?

He didn't care if whatever Charlie had gotten himself into had something to do with national security. He didn't care if he had the clearance to be let in on what was going on or not. He didn't care if he had to put it on with the NSA, the CIA, the DOD, the Army or hell, even with the president himself - his little brother had been shot at, had been hurt, perhaps only lightly, but no playing it down changed the fact that someone had tried to either warn, scare or kill Charlie this afternoon by taking two shots at him and Don couldn't and wouldn't rest until he knew who was behind that attempt, why his little brother had been targeted and just which idiots had gotten his brother into that situation in the first place. And then he'd start to go after the bastards who had brought Charlie to be able to lie to his own brother like he just had.

Of course Don had not yet the slightest idea how he was going to get all these information. But he would find a way. He _had_ some contacts he could use. And he was an excellent FBI-agent. So he had not the slightest doubt that he _would_ get to the bottom of all this.

_Give it a rest..._

Letting out a low growl, Don stalked into the house and, with a last careful glance around, closed the door. Charlie could not really believe that Don could just give it a rest, even if he wanted to - which he didn't.

"Donnie?"

Taking a deep, calming breath, Don cleared his face from any reminders of his thoughts and turned to walk into the living room and grin at his father. "Yeah Dad."

His face lightening up, his father nodded. "So you did make it to dinner, after all."

With a shrug, Don went by the kitchen to grab himself a beer and moved over to the couch, sitting down with a sigh. "What can I say? Thinking about whatever you've got cooking on the stove reminded me just how hungry I am."

Chuckling, his father shook his head. "I always knew that the way to get you to do something goes through your stomach. Ever since you refused to stop crying as a baby unless we fed you at least something."

Making a face, Don rolled his eyes. "Dad..." he whined.

Grinning, his father got up and patted Don's shoulder. "Donnie, there's one thing you should remember: I'll never tire to embarrass my big grown badass FBI-agent of a son with stories from his younger years."

"I will hope not. Where else would I get my top class blackmail material against Don otherwise?"

Father and son looked up to see Charlie walking into the living room, a soda in his hands.

Laughing, Alan moved over to quickly muzzle his youngest' curls. "You better be careful, Charlie. Just remember, I haven't forgotten the embarrassing stories of a certain world's top mathematician either."

"Yeah Charlie," Don nodded with a gleeful grin. "And I wonder just what your students would think about their respected professor if they'd know about a certain racket?"

Charlie blanched and eyed his brother warily. "You wouldn't."

Don just grinned some more.

Quickly, Charlie held up his hands. "Okay, okay, I'm just saying... No need to go get out old stuff." His eyes lit up. "Especially as I don't think you'd want Colby, David and Megan to learn about a certain 'Saint'-phase, wouldn't you?"

Don's eyes narrowed. "You even think about whispering a word of that to them, I'll go tell Amita how you've been obsessed with Nora's old Barbie puppet and just what you used to do with it."

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? You want me to tell those ladies in Merrick's office how you've tried to bleach your hair to look like Crockett and show them a picture of the result? I'm sure between them and me we could let it accidentally be mailed to the whole office."

"You do that, Chuck, and I..."

"Boys!" Alan interrupted his boys' pissing contest and gave them both a hard glare. If they wanted to act like they were thirteen, he would treat them like that. He was satisfied to see that both of his sons looked properly chastised.

"Sorry Dad," they both mumbled.

Of course, secretively, he loved when his grown up sons fell back into their old bickering ways - as long as it stayed lightly. He felt them being closer to him in those times. And it felt good to see that no matter how much they've grown up, he could still render them into sputtering boys. Especially his eldest.

With a rueful smile, he pushed the memories aside. "Well, I better go see what the food makes. Behave," he warned his boys with a last look, then left for the kitchen.

"Sure Dad," his sons called after him, then grinned at each other.

Soon though, the traces of their childhood vanished and left them both with the memory of their day - and that none of them were a boy anymore.

Their grin died and left them looking at each other, searching, uncertainly.

Finally, Charlie broke the spell by slowly coming over to plop down beside his brother, taking a sip from his soda.

"Give it a rest, Don, please," he repeated his earlier words, not looking at his brother.

Don turned his head to study his brother's profile. Eventually, he sat up. "You know I can't," he replied as quietly.

Sighing, Charlie closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "I know," he all but whispered. "It would be better though."

Don frowned. "I can't," he simply repeated.

Another deep sigh. "I know," repeated Charlie sadly.

Regarding his brother, Don suddenly doubted his resolve about getting to the bottom of this. If it really was so important to Charlie to do this on his own and keep his brother out of the loop...

"Boys!" Their father's voice boomed from the kitchen. "I'm not going to set the table as well. So if you actually don't want to eat from the table, you better see to it that you get yourselves some plates."

With a groan, Charlie's eyes opened and he stood up. "Coming, Dad!" he called out and leisurely raised his arms over his head to stretch. Immediately, a small gasp escaped his lips and his arms fell down again, his right hand going to his upper left arm.

With a scowl, Don got up and pushed Charlie back down onto the couch. "I'm setting the table," he told him gruffly and turned sharply to stalk over to the kitchen.

No. No, he couldn't let this go. His brother had already been hurt today. Who knew what would happen the next time the guy or guys behind all this came after Charlie again?

He couldn't loose Charlie.

Everything else was beyond the point.

_You should keep an eye on him._

His hand involuntarily moved to his gun he hadn't put away yet, touching the familiar handle. His mysterious called needn't have to tell him that.

He didn't plan to let his little brother out of his sight anytime soon.

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: And yet another chapter! After all the urging you guys gave me I thought I'd be nice and post it a day sooner than I had actually planned to do it. I hope you enjoyed it as well! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews by the way. I sure loved them.)_


	4. Getting Nowhere

**Chapter 4: Getting Nowhere**

At 6 AM the next morning, his alarm went off. Half an hour later, after a quick shower, Don was downstairs, following the smell of brewing coffee and pancakes to the kitchen.

"Morning, Dad," he greeted his father and looked at the feast of a breakfast in process, his stomach growling in cheerful anticipation.

Why again had he had the stupid idea to live in an own apartment when he could have this every day?

"Morning Donnie. Sleep okay?" his dad greeted him back, eying his eldest with a smile.

"Great, yeah," Don nodded and got the orange juice out of the refrigerator. He really had had a decent sleep, which did surprise him a bit. After the last day he had he would have betted he'd get nightmares, probably with his little brother starring in them.

Speaking of him - he eyed the progress of the coffee and the pancakes. Almost finished. "Want me to go get Charlie?" Don asked with a grin, already formulating the best way to rouse sleeping beauty from sleep in the most shocking way.

He and his brother had an ongoing little contest in waking each other up, ever since their early childhood. And no, they were not too old to continue this. Never. Especially not as he definitely was in the lead.

Already moving towards the door, he stopped cold when his father snorted. "Good luck with that. Your brother's been gone for almost an hour already."

Incredulous, Don turned back to stare at his father. "Gone? Where to?" he snapped, his heart beat accelerating.

This was not part of the plan.

Startled by his son's suddenly sharp tone, Alan eyed him frowningly. "To work I think. We didn't talk. I was still in bed by the time I heard him leave."

"Work? At CalSci? What on Earth would he do there at this ungodly hour?" Don wanted to know, his eyes narrowing.

Now really taken aback by Don's behavior, Alan turned to take a good look at his eldest. Don seldom showed emotion, even towards his family, but he was his father and he could read his son, if said son wanted it or not. Strangely, it always had been much easier for him to read Don, even after his training for the FBI, than to read Charlie, despite his youngest' knack to wear his emotions on the sleeve. His Margaret seemed to have been the only person who really got all of Charlie. Since she had passed away, he had become more apprehensive of what went on in his genius son's head, but he still was an enigma to him sometimes, unlike Don.

Keeping his eyes on Don, carefully observing, Alan shrugged. "He says he likes to go there early for the quiet. Plus, sometimes he wants to use that super computer they have there and early in the morning seems to be the best time for that." He briefly turned to take away the last pancake from the stove, adding it to the pile he had already prepared. Turning his attention back to Don, he decided to fish for some information. Lately, Charlie had been more distant than normal, barely ever at home anymore and now, Don seemed to have strapped the protective big brother full on. Neither of those facts sat well with Alan. "He leaves so early almost every day nowadays. But then, with the little sleep he seems to get lately, I'm not that surprised," he mentioned casually, keeping an eye onto Don's reaction to that out of the corner of his eyes as he brought over the plate with the pancakes and the coffee pot.

"Little sleep?" Don echoed, disturbed by that new tidbit of news.

Alan shrugged. "Goes to bed late, gets up early," he paused for a moment, his voice growing quieter as the concern he had held back over the last couple of weeks over his youngest finally came to light. "- having nightmares."

_Nightmares?_

Don tried to will down the welling concern - in futile. He sagged more into his chair than that he sat down. "What about?" he asked briskly and helping himself to a load of pancakes.

His father sighed. "I don't know. You know Charlie. He doesn't talk about things like that. He's almost worse in that department than you are."

Of course, contrary to Charlie, Don didn't live here anymore, limiting Alan's possibilities to note his eldest' sleeping patterns and therefore not giving him the opportunity to call Don onto them as he had with Charlie.

"Dad," Don sighed and suddenly remembered just why he preferred to have his own apartment. His father tended to hover and mother hen. He dug into his pancakes, having lost the appetite though. Now it was just necessary fuel.

And all because of Charlie, he thought darkly. Why couldn't he have just stayed and have breakfast with his family to then leave for work, like normal people do it every day. But no, not Charlie, of course not. Charlie had never been normal, not since the day he had been born, premature of course. Don loved Charlie, always had, unconditionally, but there had been many times, especially during their childhood, that Don had just wished to have a normal brother like everyone else and not Charlie with his numbers in that amazing head of him but with that frail body. Sometimes, he had almost hated the specialty of his brother - never Charlie, you couldn't hate Charlie with his gentle heart and big, expressive eyes - but that brain of him, that you could hate sometimes. Only after having put distance between him and his little brother, Don had learned to fully appreciate all of Charlie. It had been a long way, but eventually he got there and nowadays, he was just amazed by his brother's abilities and proud of him. Most days. Some days, he felt the old grudge toward him come up fleetingly and it was those days he tried to stay away from his family, especially Charlie.

Today was not one of those days, but he still was angry at Charlie for simply leaving like that, after everything that had happened the last day. God damn it, someone had shot at Charlie and now, Charlie was somewhere out there, unprotected. Perhaps at CalSci but something told Don that Charlie hadn't gone straight to campus - which meant that he could be anywhere right now. What if the guy who had attacked him yesterday was following him, attempting to take his life again perhaps right this minute?

The bite he had taken got stuck in his throat and he had to swallow hard to get it down. Having lost all appetite, Don pushed the plate away and grabbed his coffee, downing it quickly to immediately fill up his cup again.

That was exactly why Don had spent the night here, instead of going to his apartment, so he could catch up with Charlie and at least bring him safely out to the campus. He had even thought about taking some personal time that day so he could keep watch over his brother. He needed to be sure that Charlie was okay, safe. And he had planned to press Charlie some more about what really was going on. And now? Now, Charlie was gone, Don had no idea where he was and he was left to worry once again.

"Why don't you tell me what it going on here?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Don's head jerked up to see his father's eyes scrutinizing him mercilessly. He suppressed the urge to squirm. Heaven, he was a seasoned FBI-agent. He faced down some of the worst monsters the human race had brought out, never even blinking - but his father could still make him squirm with one look. Hell, sometimes he even felt the urge to quiver and immediately confess to have done something wrong when his dad gave him _the_ look that fathers gave their sons all over the world since the age of time.

"What.. what do you mean?" he asked back, getting a grip on himself.

_The_ look and Don nearly swallowed. "Don't give me that, Don. Something is up with your brother. And by your behavior, I guess you know what's up." His father frowned. "Is it a case? Is your brother in trouble?"

Forcing himself to remain calm and unreadable, Don met his father's eyes - and lied. "No Dad, I don't know what is going on. But I'm sure, whatever it is, it's fine." Well, halfway lied. He really didn't know yet what was going on. He didn't think though that it was fine. Not if his brother got shot. But his father didn't need to know that, really not.

"Donnie..."

Shooting his father a grin, Don got up and carried his plate and cup over to the sink. "You know, Dad, I really need to hit the road now. Thanks for breakfast. I'll call later." Not giving his father a chance to get another word in, he breezed out of the door, grabbed his things and left his childhood home, breathing in relief when he heard the door fell close behind him. Another reason why he had his own apartment was that his Dad just knew too damn much by simply looking at him - in Don's line of work not exactly always a too comfortable trait.

With a sigh, he headed for his truck and got in, pulled away to head North towards CalSci.

Back in the kitchen, Alan looked at the uneaten pile of pancakes and sighed. Great - another son out on the streets without a decent breakfast in him.

* * *

Frustrated, Don looked around Charlie's empty office for the second day in a row. Even more disturbingly this time, it didn't look as if Charlie had been here yet this morning. Okay, part of Don had already expected that, but still - to have confirmation now left an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"Charles, what a surprise! I thought you called in some personal time for the rest of the..." Don turned and abruptly, Larry, having walked in, stopped and sputtered. "Oh my, Don... I'm sorry, I thought you might be Charles there, for a moment." He frowned. "So I don't know why as the both of you are really quite different in stature. Probably the old curse of habit bespelled me for a moment to believe I see Charles in his office." His frown deepened. "Uh, what _are_ you doing here, Don?"

Having narrowed his eyes, Don gave a shrug. "Just looking for something. What was this you said about Charlie taking some time off?" he inquired.

"Well, Millie just informed me that Charles has called her to let her know that he'd take off for the rest of the week and suggest Amita to cover his lower classes and that he has asked an old friend of his over at UCLA to cover his more advanced classes," Larry answered and eyed him curiously. "Did Charles not mention that to you?"

"No, he must have forgotten that," Don said lowly, frowning.

"I must say, I was a bit surprised myself as well. When we talked yesterday evening he didn't mention it to me either," Larry nodded and sighed. "Of course I fear he was a bit distracted by doing the analyzes on this test series for the LAPD. I must say, that's quite an extraordinary project he has there. And the simulation yesterday seemed so real! Hard to believe it was only a test."

"He told you that? When?" Don wanted to know.

"Last night, he called to explain the previous situation to me and apologize to not have informed me sooner of the harmlessness of the happenings yesterday afternoon," Larry answered and glanced at his watch. "Oh dear, I fear I have to hurry. Don, please greet Agent Reeves for me, will you?"

Don gave an absentminded nod and stared at one of Charlie's prisms. So Charlie had taken some days off? He wondered why, not really liking the possibilities his mind conjured up for him though.

With a last glance around, Don left Charlie's office to go back to his SUV, deep in thoughts. Charlie hadn't said anything to him about taking time off and his dad hadn't mentioned anything about that either. So he assumed that Charlie had only taken some time from the university and wasn't planning to leave LA as well. As it looked he actually seemed to have wanted him and their dad to believe that he was going to CalSci regularly. But if he stayed here in LA, then where was he going to instead of to work?

To the LAPD? Don doubted it, but then, it would be easy enough to check up on that. Climbing into his SUV, he got out his phone and dialed his office, hoping that Megan was already there.

For once, he was lucky. Megan picked up after only the second ring. "Hey Megan, can you do me a favor? Get me the number of Chief Suttner of the LAPD?"

"Just a moment," Megan told him and he could hear her tapping away. "Why do you need it?"

"I just need to check up on something with him," Don evasively replied.

"Hmm - and it doesn't have anything to do with Charlie by any chance?" Megan though wasn't easily fooled.

Don sighed. "Just give me the number."

"Okay - it's 555-639."

"Thanks," Don told her quickly and hung up before she could question him further.

Hesitating a moment, he finally punched in the number for Chief Suttner. He wasn't exactly looking forward to check up on his little brother with a chief of the LAPD, but it wasn't as if Charlie left him much choice. Don needed to know what was going on.

"Suttner," a gruff voice sounded through the line.

"Chief Suttner, this is Special Agent Don Eppes of the local FBI," Don responded, falling back into agent mode.

There was a slight pause. "What can I do for you, Agent?"

Ah, now came the tricky part. How could he get what he needed without letting it on that he was just spying on his little brother? "I believe my brother is working on a project for the LAPD? Charles Eppes?" he started.

"Yes," Suttner answered shortly.

Don took a deep breath. "I understand that his project is in a hot phase right now and of course also the importance of it. He also consults for the FBI and we've come to appreciate his help. But we received some threats against him, recently, that have me quite concerned. And after yesterday's test - well, I'm sure you'll understand that I'd like to check if it really had only been a test and not someone making a serious attempt on his life. From what I gathered, the circumstances were a bit - shady."

Another slight pause. "Threats? What kind of threats?"

Don scratched his head, thinking quickly. "The family member of a person Charlie helped to send to jail got wind of his involvement and now seeks revenge. I'm sure you'll understand that I can't tell you more. I haven't warned Charlie yet, not wonting him to worry too much. Still, this incident yesterday left me a bit on edge. I can't shake the feeling that our perp had perhaps been also there on the scene, that's at least what he wants us to believe. So I'd like to talk to the officer who've mimed the sniper. Perhaps he has noticed something. Could you please give me his name?"

Suttner hesitated. "Yesterday, you said?"

"Yes - the fake sniper attack against Charlie at CalSci yesterday afternoon," Don complied, his full concentration on Suttner's voice to not miss even the slightest reaction.

"Oh yeah... I think I've seen the report somewhere," Suttner though replied to Don's surprise. "Just a moment. Yes, here it is - ah, but I'm afraid there are no names of the participants listed, only the facts and numbers. Why don't you ask your brother - I'm sure he'll be able to give you the name of the officer who played the sniper."

Was it just his imagination or could he hear a trace of sarcasm in the chief's voice there? Gritting his teeth, Don forced himself to remain calm. "Like said, I don't want to worry Charlie. Isn't there anyone else who could help me?"

"If this threat is as real as you fear it is, don't you think it would be better for your brother if he knew to look out and be even more careful?" Suttner countered to Don's frustration.

Now, Don had the choice to either backtrack or insinuate that Charlie wasn't strong enough to deal with a threat. Grinding his teeth, Don shook his head. He couldn't betray his brother. "You are probably right. I'll talk to him. The sooner the better," he added, changing tactics. "Uh, he mentioned he's working for you today but I hadn't had a chance to ask where. Can you at least tell me where I can find him?"

But again, Suttner was no help. "Agent Eppes, I'm the chief of the LAPD. Do you really think I know where each of my boys is at every moment of the day, let alone a consultant?"

Realizing that the chief was not going to tell him anything, Don finally gave up. "No, of course not, Sir. I'll give him a call and ask him directly."

"You do that, Agent Eppes," Suttner said and the line went dead.

With a growl, Don snapped his phone shut. Well, that had been quite futile. He hadn't learned much. Though the chief had said there had been a test yesterday. But then, with the way this was all working out, Don wasn't all that surprised about that. Actually, he'd be very surprised if - if he insisted on it - he wouldn't get the name of this fake sniper soon and that officer would have the very same story Charlie had fed him to tell him once again.

Whatever Charlie was involved with at the moment, it was clear to Don that another agency or group must had to do something with it, covering up everything. It had to be, with the fast and efficient way everything had been dealt with yesterday - and who knew for how long already. Perhaps it was the NSA, perhaps someone else, but he was sure that there was something going on.

And his little brother seemed to have been caught right in the middle of it.

Gritting his teeth, Don pulled away from the parking lot and headed back into the city. Even after all this time, Don still had a hard time picturing Charlie involved with matters that concerned national security. Or with agencies like the NSA or CIA. Sure, he had seen what Charlie was capable to do with his math and just how many lives could be saved by a simple equation. And still...

After learning of Charlie's high security level, Don had tried to find out more about it. Just how high it actually was, how he had gotten it and for whom exactly Charlie consulted or had consulted to require such a high clearance. But he had to find out that Charlie's security was pretty tight as he only found out a few things and nothing specific. None of his contacts seemed to be high enough. Part of Don had been relieved that his involvements with the government seemed to be well protected - another though deeply worried because if Charlie's security and clearance was as high as it seemed to be then it had to mean that his little brother must have had to do with some pretty heavy stuff. And heavy usually meant dangerous.

But life had gone on and Don hadn't been able to detect any massive threats for Charlie and gradually, he had pushed it all back, not exactly forgetting that Charlie was involved with top secret matters, but not consciously thinking about it anymore.

Until one fine afternoon when he received a phone call that supposedly never happened only moments after Charlie had been shot at to then vanish for a few hours.

His cell phone sprang to life and Don activated the speaker. "Eppes."

"I've heard you've received some threats against me? Care to enlighten me?"

"Charlie?" Don exclaimed a bit surprised upon hearing his brother's voice.

That was fast.

"What are you doing, Don?" Charlie continued as if he hadn't heard him.

"Where are you?" Don immediately demanded to know.

But Charlie ignored his question and spoke in a tight voice. "You are not seriously snooping around after me, are you?"

Well, two could play this game. "Where are you?" Don asked again, sharper this time.

"I'm at work!" Charlie snapped. "What the hell were you thinking, interrogating the chief like that?"

Don's jaw clenched, ignoring his last question. "I'm just coming from CalSci. Larry said you've taken the rest of the week off," he pointed out. "So for the last time: where are you?"

"At work," Charlie repeated once again and this time it wasn't hard to tell that he was angry. "It may surprise you, but my work consists of more than just standing in front of a class and talk about math."

"Yeah, I see that, a math professor really comes around," Don threw in, sarcastically.

"Actually yeah, he does, otherwise I probably would hardly spend as much time at the FBI as I do," Charlie countered.

At that, Don gripped the wheel harder. Yeah, he could say little against that, couldn't he? "Where are you, Charlie," he finally asked again, letting a bit of his desperation show in his voice, aiming for guilt. "I just want to talk to you. See you."

Charlie sighed. "We talked yesterday, Don. I'm safe. So don't worry and please, stop harassing my friends!"

"I wasn't aware the chief and you were such tight buddies," Don stated frowning. He really hadn't counted with Chief Suttner ratting him out - at least not so fast.

"We aren't, but we've worked together for years now and hold a mutual respect of each other," Charlie answered and the anger seemed to be back. "And when my brother comes and interrogates him, he thought he'd let me know, courtesy to that good working relationship we have going on instead of putting in an official complaint with Merrick. What the hell were you thinking, Don?"

"I didn't interrogate him. He must have widely exaggerated," Don corrected.

"Oh, so you didn't question him about the officer who staged the attack or about my whereabouts?" Charlie asked back.

"We both know that there was nothing fake with that attack yesterday," Don emphasized. "I don't care what the Chief said. You don't get a graze from a blank. Considering that some unknown person attempted to kill you, I think it only normal that I'd like to know where you are."

"Don, you really need to stop this," Charlie stressed, his voice tight.

Don frowned. "No, actually I think I need to get to the bottom of this."

"This doesn't concern you, Don," Charlie tried to reason.

"You were shot. That makes it to my concern, Charlie," Don replied, angry that Charlie was too thickheaded to see that.

His brother was silent for a moment and when he talked again, his voice was oddly calm. "No, Don. No, it doesn't. Or how would you react if you get hurt on the job and I'd come brazing in, trying to take over the investigation?"

"That is hardly the same, Charlie," Don protested, incredulous. "I'm an FBI-agent. It's part of the job. But you're not an agent. You're..."

"I'm a professor. I'm a mathematician. I'm a consultant," Charlie interrupted him. "And part of those professions bear a certain risk. Nothing like what you face on an everyday basis, but from time to time, my involvement with certain things puts me in a tight spot. But there are people who look out for me and you know, they actually know how to do their job."

"You've been hurt..."

Charlie fell into his word once again. "But I'm still alive, aren't I? You've got nothing to worry, Don. And for the last time, this doesn't concern you or the FBI for that matter. So please do yourself the favor and butt out before you get in trouble."

"So I've got nothing to worry? It doesn't work like that, Charlie!" Don contradicted him, taking a sharp turn that left the tires screeching.

An impatient sigh. "Do you really think I don't know that? My brother works for the FBI, for God's sake. You think I don't worry when you go on a bust? Don't you think I'm hesitating each time an unknown number shows on my phone or worse, one of the FBI numbers that doesn't belong to you in fear that it will be _that_ call? You think it's easy to accept the possibility of you getting hurt or even killed any time and there's absolutely nothing I can do about that? Do I go and interrogate your boss and teammates though? Or do I perhaps get on your nerves with calling you every five minutes to see if you're still okay?" Charlie fired back, his voice rising.

Uncomfortable, Don shifted in his seat. He knew his family worried about him. Had known that always. But this wasn't the same. "You just can't compare that!"

"No, you're right. I can't. That's how I have to feel every goddamned day. That knowledge is always present, no matter what I do, no matter how far I'm into the numbers. It's always there, Don." Charlie took a deep breath. "I'm sorry you're worried, Don, I really am. I wish nothing of this had ever come to your attention. But you've got to deal with it now and that includes to just give it a rest. I'm fine. And you make it worse than it actually is."

For a moment, Don was at a loss of words, feeling partly guilty about the impact his job had on his brother, partly flabbergasted to hear Charlie talk to him like that. It wasn't like him to be so - resolute. "Charlie..."

There were suddenly voices in the background and then he could hear Charlie's answer distantly: "Yeah I know. I'm coming already." Then Charlie was back on the line with him. "I have to go. But, Don, _please_ - no more investigations in this, okay?"

Don was quiet. He wouldn't give a promise he already knew he couldn't keep.

"Don..." Charlie pleaded quietly.

"Charlie!" was heard in the background.

"Yeah!" Charlie impatiently called back then sighed. "Please, Don, do me the favor. Don't get involved in this."

"It's too late for that, Charlie," Don finally answered quietly. But he had to work around a sudden lump in his throat. Charlie almost never asked him for any favors. Not like this. And he didn't want to say no to him - but there was this overwhelming combination of the big brother and the agent in him that stopped him to just let this rest. That actually urged him to get to the bottom of all this.

Charlie was silent for too long after that to Don's liking. "Fine. Whatever," he finally said, coldly. "I guess I'll see you tonight then."

Before Don could give an answer, the line went dead.

Frustrated, Don punched the steering wheel.

Great. Just great. The morning had barely begun and he had interrogated Charlie's best friend and the chief of the LAPD, without getting nowhere and to top all that off, he also had displeased his father and gotten into a fight with his brother.

Oh yeah, this day was turning out to be just fine.

* * *

One look at her boss and Megan knew that she better stayed clear of him for the time being. His stalk from the elevator to his desk was aggressive and the expression on his face could only be described as thunderous.

Unfortunately though, she was not only Don's team member, but also his partner and his friend. And she happened to be a profiler. So she couldn't let him brew like that. She did wait a bit though, in the hope that his mood would get better.

Thirty minutes later it was clear that if anything, it only got worse. She had watched out of the corner of her eyes how Don had attacked the paperwork with venom, his mounting frustration visible by the force with which he slammed every newly signed report onto the done-pile. And she had witnessed two other agents and one secretary approach Don's desk, take one look at his face and backtrack immediately again.

With a sigh, she wished she could do it like them and just go and hide, hoping Don wouldn't notice her until he wasn't so furious anymore. Shaking her head, she stood up, walked over to the coffee pot to pour two cups, then, bracing herself, approached Don slowly, ignoring the incredulous looks she got from the other agents in the bullpen.

Usually, Don was a very balanced person, always calm, always in control, always having a clear head, even if he was dead tired on his feet. It made him the good agent he was and one of the best team leaders the FBI had at the moment.

But from time to time, Don lost his cool and then he usually grew angry and a ticking time bomb that could blow up at any time. It happened seldom enough but when it happened, in eight out of ten times Don's little brother played a major role in getting Don into that state. Megan had to suppress a smile. She had always found it amusing that the cool, controlled, confident and strong Agent Eppes could be so easily thrown off by his brother, a math professor on top of that. And yeah, she almost found it endearing. She wasn't so self suicidal though as to ever tell Don that. But sometimes she also worried about that. It had its good reasons why an agent couldn't work a case where his family was involved. Or why it was always dangerous to let family work together. With Charlie working for them as a consultant, Don's strong emotional reactions to his brother could impair his usually very good judgment. Megan was aware of that and always looked out for it when she saw signs that something had gone on between the two oh so different but at the same time also oh so similar brothers. It was her job to have her partner's back after all.

This time Charlie wasn't working for them - but it was obvious that Don was loosing objection anyway and while they didn't have a case at the moment - it could come one in anytime and then they needed Don with a clear head.

"Hey," she greeted him, leaning against his desk and putting the second cup of coffee in front of her boss.

"I'm busy, Megan," Don replied shortly, not even looking up.

Not that that flustered Megan. She hadn't expected anything else. "So I take it the talk with Chief Suttner hadn't gone oh so well then?"

"Don't you have reports of your own to tend to? If not, I'm sure I'll have some for you," Don answered briskly, still not looking up.

"Not that I'm surprised about that. I doubt the chief of the LAPD appreciates it much to get questioned by a FBI-agent," Megan said as if she hadn't heard him.

Finally, Don raised his head to glare at her. "I didn't question him. I merely had some questions for him concerning my brother. That's all."

Megan nodded. "Of course."

"Go back to your own paperwork, Reeves," Don grumbled, turning back to sign yet another report.

Megan regarded him for a moment. "I'm curious. What did Charlie say did happen last afternoon?" She really was curious about that.

Don snatched himself another file. "It was all a big test for the LAPD on their responding time. Nothing of it real."

"Oh," Megan said slowly, finding it hard to believe it. But then, Charlie did work on all sort of projects, many of them for the law enforcements. It was possible that it was true. Still... "So the shots were blanks? And the people there were from the LAPD?"

Don shot her an unreadable look. "To my knowledge, blanks don't leave graze wounds."

Slowly, Megan nodded. "So you think he's got involved in something with another agency." It made sense, that.

With a sigh, Don threw his pen onto his desk and ran his hands over his face, grudgingly accepting that Megan wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "I don't think it, I'm sure of it. And Charlie more or less confirmed it earlier on."

Megan raised an eyebrow, interested. "You spoke with Charlie?" That in turn would explain the mood with which Don had come in.

"Suttner called him and he in turn thought it necessary to call and give me hell for only wanting to keep Charlie safe," Don growled, his expression darkening.

She wouldn't be surprised to see steam coming out of Don's ear and nose any second now. "I'm sure he understands that you are worried," Megan said carefully.

Don snorted, his fingers twitching nervously. "Oh, he gets that. He just thinks I should just suck it up because that's what he has to do all the time as well."

Now, that surprised Megan. "What?"

Don laughed humorlessly. "He seems to think that if he has to worry day in and day out about me getting hurt on the job and has to swallow that worry that I should just do the same."

Her eyes widening a bit, Megan pulled a chair close and sat down, confident that she was allowed to do that now. "I guess I can see where he is coming from there. But it's not the same," she slowly said, thinking about what Don had told her.

"Thank you!" Don exclaimed. "That's exactly what I told him as well. But that bonehead of a brother of mine refuses to see this like that. He's not an agent! He's a mathematician, a professor! His job is to be safe and not get hurt!"

Megan passed him a look. She agreed with Don - but only partly. "Well - to be fair, he _is_ also a consultant for various organizations with a pretty high clearance."

"So what?" Don gave back, giving her a glare. "He consults for us too, like a number of other people as well. It shouldn't put him at risk. If the idiots he's consulting for now had done their job well, he wouldn't have gotten hurt yesterday. For Heaven's sake, someone shot him! And all Charlie keeps telling me is that he's fine and safe. He told me to butt out and leave it alone, can you believe that?"

She felt for her boss, she really did. She knew how much Charlie meant to Don, had seen how deeply her boss loved his brother - and vice versa, for that matter. Of course Don worried after the scare of the past afternoon. To be honest, so did she. But Don still wasn't objective anymore. And she also knew Charlie. He would do anything to keep his brother out of trouble and if Don really butted into the operation of another agency or organization - then he definitely would get trouble. Taking a deep breath, she looked her boss directly into the eyes. "And perhaps Charlie is right with that."

The glare was instant and burning. "What?"

With a sigh, Megan held Don's eyes. "Whatever is going on, it's obvious that it's some other agency's business. You can't just barge in on that and you know that. You wouldn't tolerate it either if it were your operation."

He narrowed his eyes. "They got my brother hurt, Megan."

"I know. But then, you said yourself it was just a graze. That Charlie assured you that everything was fine. He's not stupid. You should trust his word, don't you think?" Megan told Don bluntly.

Don regarded her for a long moment and slowly, Megan got nervous that she had crossed a line she shouldn't have.

Finally, Don sat forward, turning his face away from her. "When Charlie was twelve, he and I were both in the same grade, high school, even in the same classes sometimes. I wasn't too pleased about that. Who wants his five years younger brother in the same class as you after all? So I avoided him and Charlie respected that, he didn't even try to approach me when being in school. And I was just fine with that, paying him no attention at all." His voice was conversationally and it sent a shiver down Megan's spine. "After a couple of months or so I emerged somewhat from my impassiveness and noticed that Charlie was moving around stiffly. And that I hardly saw him anywhere in the school yard during breaks. Finally, he wore long sleeves and that with almost ninety degree in the shadows. So one evening when Mom and Dad were out, I asked him if everything was okay. If someone was perhaps giving him a hard time. All he answered was that everything was fine, then he changed the topic." He made a pause and Megan's stomach clenched in anticipation to what Don would tell next. She had a pretty good idea what it would be though.

Don signed another report calmly as he continued. "Two days later he didn't come to meet me after school to walk home and I went looking for him. I found my brother unconscious in the boys locker room. His body was covered with bruises, some new but most of them old ones and the latest attack left him with two broken rips and three cracked ones. And one of the assholes kicked his head when he had been down, giving him a second grade concussion. He was in the hospital for a day and reluctantly, Charlie finally admitted that he had gotten beaten up every day since school had let in, sometimes more than once in a day."

He turned his head and looked Megan straight in the eyes. "Trust me, Megan. Nothing is fine when Charlie says everything is fine. In fact, if anything, something is very wrong when he uses that particular phrase."

Don held her eyes for a moment longer before he turned back to his report, clearly dismissing her.

Megan didn't fought it. Instead, she just got up quietly and walked away from Don without another word. Then again, there was nothing to say, wasn't there? She couldn't say anything in response to Don's little story. She stopped at her desk and stared at her chair, contemplating if she should sit down or give in and go outside to get some fresh air. Shaking her head, she threw a glance back at Don who was hunched over his report, then turned to head outside. She really needed some fresh air.

Don's tale shouldn't impact her like this - but there had been something in the way he had told it, so detached, that made it all the more real for her. Megan had always suspected that Charlie had had a tough time as a child, it seemed to be a common factor among prodigies like he was one. She had done some reading on the matter after meeting Charlie. And still - to hear Don talk like that about how badly Charlie had been hurt, even if it happened years before, it sickened her.

And she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, Don was right.

That nothing was fine at all with Charlie and hence, also not with Don.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a long sigh as she leaned against the railing.

Something told her that they had some long days ahead of them.

* * *

Don glanced at Megan's retreating back and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. He hadn't wanted to say anything to her, let alone talk about what Charlie had said on the phone.

But of course, Megan was Megan and before he knew it, he had started talking - venting.

Still, he should have never spilled that old story from high school. Don knew perfectly well that Charlie didn't want that to be widely known. And under normal circumstances, he would never have said something. Hell, most of the time he had banished that terrible incident from his memories. But Charlie's stubborn behavior while he was once again threatened just had brought that memory up again. And he had wanted Megan to understand that he had a very good reason to worry and do what he did - and would do until this was over.

Even after all these years, Don still blamed himself for not noticing earlier on that his brother got beat up repeatedly. Or rather said, for not wanting to notice it. He wasn't stupid after all. He had known how the hierarchy worked at high schools and especially for a twelve year old boy wonder among much older kids who had the audacity to be much smarter than any of them - if not even all of them together. But Don had ignored it, too angry to have his five years younger brother in the same class as him, being better than him. Okay, so they hadn't had that many classes together, but even one had been too much and the three they had had had definitely been too much. His parents had told him to watch out for Charlie, had forced him to walk him to the school and back home, and he had been angry about that as well. Charlie had never asked him of anything though and in hindsight, Don understood that Charlie had probably sensed Don's anger and frustration of finding himself in the same year as his little brother and had stayed out of his way as much as possible. So much that it was possible for a bunch of guys to beat him straight into the hospital.

That wasn't what Don had wanted, far from it. Actually, after it had happened, he had gone to have a talk with the bastards who had hurt his little brother himself - earning himself three days of suspension by the school board and two months of grounding by his parents, having to do a various bunch of chores on top of that. Don had never regretted that. In his eyes, the guys he had beaten up had gotten what they had coming for them by beating his brother unconscious. Besides, it got a clear message out to other bullies at school just fine.

No one hurt Charlie, and if someone did, that someone would have to deal with Don.

After that episode, Don kept an eye on Charlie, making it a point to know where he was when. He wasn't exactly keeping watch over him, but he regularly made sure to see him occasionally after at least every two classes and if he didn't show up for lunch, he went looking for him. As far as he knew, it worked. Charlie had no other trip to the hospital during high school. Then again, he and Charlie had never talked openly about high school. Who knew what other grief his classmates gave Charlie back then?

And ever since then, his hairs stood up whenever Charlie claimed that everything was fine. It always meant that he actually wasn't fine.

Just like this time. It wasn't fine. Something was going on and from what little Don had learned so far, it was something big, especially for Charlie. And it made him sick with fear that Charlie refused to get his help or even talk with him about it. That was even a worse sign about just how bad things actually were.

His phone rang and glad to be ripped out of his unpleasant thoughts, Don quickly answered it.

"Eppes."

"It's not over yet, Agent Eppes. Your brother is still in very great danger."

Fear clutched his heart, but it was pure anger that spoke out of Don. "Who the hell are you?"

"They're playing with him, Agent. But I warn you: it's a deadly game they're playing."

Don gritted his teeth and restrained himself from repeating his earlier question, knowing that he wasn't going to get an answer anyway. Instead, he forced himself to ask another question. "Who are 'they'?" he snapped as his gut clenched in dread as the word 'deadly' echoed in his mind with increasing volume.

"You better watch him, Agent Eppes."

The line went dead.

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: Well, well, well - hope you liked my little cliffy. Hopefully more soon. Thanks for the many wonderful reviews. Loved them! I do hope you enjoyed this one as well.)_


	5. Bond Of Brothers

**Chapter 5: Bond Of Brothers**

With a sigh, Charlie glared at his laptop. If he didn't know it better, he could swear the numbers had conspired up against him to not let him see the solution. It was the only explanation he could find that explained why he had been working on this batch of numbers and hadn't been able to find the pattern yet and break the code.

Or perhaps, he just was too tired and exhausted to think clearly enough. And too worried. Not to mention that he felt the pressure getting to him.

After all, if he couldn't break the code it could mean that millions of lives would be in danger.

He was used to work on cases and projects that had lives at cost but never something like with this one, especially not while being engaged in a race for the solution with the enemy. And a tight race it was with them fighting very dirty like yesterday's attack showed only too well.

It hadn't been the first attack actually. He knew the other side was trying to distract him, slow him down. He knew they were playing with him though he had no idea why. Over the past six weeks his bike had been manipulated, his office at CalSci had been broken in, nasty little surprises had been sent to him, he had been knocked unconscious to wake up in a strip club and finally, they had moved to shoot at him. It was clear that they could get at him, no matter how good his team members of this operation watched him – so why didn't they just kill him instead of playing with him like that?

This question plagued him almost as much as these stubborn numbers that just wouldn't open up for him.

And as if that wasn't enough to have to deal with, now Don had caught wind of something being going on, something that threatened Charlie's safety if not even his life. So now, his big brother snooped around and Charlie was deeply afraid that this would bring Don right into the line of sight of the persons playing this sick game with him and Charlie just couldn't let that happen. Don led a dangerous life enough as it was – he wouldn't add to that by dragging him into a possibly deadly mess himself.

But how could he stop Don from getting involved in this after he had learned of the attack yesterday and the resulting graze Charlie had suffered? He knew his big brother, probably better than most would think, especially Don himself. He knew that his safety was one of Don's top priorities and that whenever there was even the hint of him being in any danger, Don would go into overdrive in his protectiveness. It was one of the reasons why Charlie had been very careful to not let know Don of just what he usually really did while working for other agencies like CIA or NSA – well, apart of the fact that it was all top secret anyway. Especially when he worked on a joint CIA and NSA project like he did now. Not to mention the DSR who had some interest involved as well. The CIA and NSA cases almost always were a mess. Of course they only called him in for the really big ones and big naturally also meant bad and dangerous. The cases the two agencies worked together… He had had only three such operations yet and frankly said, he would have been happy to never have to do with one ever again. Too bad his conscience wouldn't let him tell them no when Bob or Jean called him in for one.

So no, he really didn't want Don and especially his father to know his involvement with stuff like that. His dad was worried enough about Don on a constant basis and he knew what a toll it took for their father to live with that danger. Charlie also knew that his dad was happy to know that at least one of his sons led a secure life, away from the dark sides of life Don had to confront on an every day basis. And Don couldn't know because first most, Charlie knew how important concentration was to keep Don safe and he knew his brother well enough to know that that concentration would lack if he knew that Charlie's work sometimes wasn't so harmless at all. He could well remember how Don had sprinted through an open space without cover, completely regardless of his own safety, when that sniper had targeted Charlie. No, his concentration wouldn't be as good as it should be and that could get Don hurt. And second – frankly said, Charlie wasn't so sure how Don would react if he learned that Charlie had been rather closely involved with law enforcement agencies for years now – long before Don came back to LA and eventually started to bring Charlie in on cases.

The truth was that Charlie had helped the FBI before Don had asked him to, also on sensitive cases – not often though. For him, the FBI was Don's turf and he never had wanted to invade that unless Don specifically asked him to – which he hadn't thought very likely. The shadows of their childhood just hadn't vanished yet. After a while, Don had come with a few embezzlement cases to him but that were peanuts, Charlie knew that. Still, he had been pleased that Don had been willing to ask him in on them, even if it reminded him a lot of the times when Don asked for his help with his math homework, all the time well aware that this was all he would likely get from Don to work on. But then that serial rapist case had Don troubled and when Charlie had seen a possible way to find the rapist he just hadn't been able to keep out of it and not say something to Don about him being able to help him. Since then Don had gradually called him in on more and more cases and Charlie was incredibly happy about that. He loved to work with Don and the FBI cases were a challenging experience for him. It was marvelous to see how math could help to catch killers, rapists and other low creatures and even more: helped save lives. Sure, he also had that with the work he did for other agencies but with the FBI cases, it was more rewarding than with the others because it was more personal. It also meant they were tougher to deal with, especially added the fact that there, if he was wrong, he could bring Don's life and the ones of his team in danger like the case with the Charm Boys had shown. It had taken Charlie a while to deal with that aspect of his consulting work for Don. But he had and now, he was proud to say that he and Don didn't make such a bad team.

A team he had no intention to risk with anything – like him being involved more with NSA and CIA than he just knew Don and his dad would like it. So he was really careful to keep this a secret. With his dad it wasn't that much of a problem but with Don… His brother just was too good an agent to not get suspicious from time to time – especially after he had learned of Charlie's high security clearance. He was no fool – he knew what such a high clearance entitled. And Charlie had seen that it had troubled his big brother, though he wasn't sure if it was because it had worried Don or because it had irked him that his little brother had a higher clearance than him. Charlie thought it probably had been a bit of both, though he hoped the worry for him had more part of it than the annoyance.

And now with that shooting and the graze… It was no wonder that Don had caught on, at least partly and Charlie just knew that he wasn't going to give it a rest. Not after that attempt on his life. To be fair, if the roles were reversed, he wouldn't either. That didn't make this better though. It wasn't just that Charlie didn't want Don to become a target himself, the one thing he feared most – but Don was FBI and this was a CIA/NSA operation and his colleagues within those two agencies didn't like someone else to walk into their territory anymore than the FBI liked it – or any other organization he had ever worked for. Then there was the simple fact that Don hadn't had the clearance to get in on this one. Only people with high clearance were allowed to work on this case.

Problem was that Don never was going to listen to him. Not with how things were at the moment. His visit to Suttner was evidence enough for that. Charlie still couldn't believe it that Don had really done something so stupid. To go to the chief of the LAPD and _interrogate_ him… What the hell had his brother been thinking?

"You okay?"

Startled out of his thoughts, Charlie suppressed a sigh and looked up from his laptop, forcing himself to offer a smile. "Sure, I'm fine."

Noah dropped into the chair beside Charlie and threw a peanut up into the air that he caught with his mouth. Only then did he give Charlie a hard look. "You know, one day you should learn that everyone who knows you knows that nothing is fine when you claim that you're fine."

Frustrated, Charlie looked away. "Okay then, so I'm good," he corrected his earlier phrase and turned back to his work.

Noah chuckled. "Remember who I am? Hardened, thoroughly trained badass spy? You really think a little math geek like you can fool me?"

Exasperated, Charlie threw the agent a dark look. "Is there a point you want to make or can I continue to work on this code you want me to break?"

Shrugging, Noah met his eyes with a slight grin. "The point is that I doubt that you'll get much progress with breaking this code unless you can clear your head and get rid of whatever is plaguing you. And as it's really important that you break that code I suggest you spill now what's really on your mind."

Annoyed, Charlie held Noah's eyes. "Okay, so maybe I'm tired because for the past four months I've been doing almost nothing else than try to break this code, find a trace of Vision and figure out what they're up to next. I'm on edge because for the last six weeks I've barely missed one strange accident after the other and now yesterday, someone shot at me with the sole purpose to scare me. And you know what? I am. I'm scared shitless. Isn't that enough to trouble my mind?"

Again, Noah shrugged, never loosing eye contact though. "Sure. It's only normal you're on edge and tired. But we both know that that's not it. You usually work the best under pressure and you've been working for us long enough now to not get rattled that easily. And while the stakes are admittedly high this time around – I don't believe for a second that this is enough to break your concentration like it is broken now. You were barely there at the conference this morning and I seriously doubt you've heard every word that had been said. And ever since then you sit here sulking over that laptop of yours and not getting forward one bit." His hard eyes softened. "And this worries me because I know that not many things can break your concentration like this. So come on: Spill it!"

For a long moment, Charlie was silent, having turned away his head, contemplating his friend's words. Finally, he gave in. "It's Don," he answered quietly.

Noah frowned. "Your brother? What about him?"

Charlie sighed and leant back, running his hands over his face. "You know that Larry was witness to yesterday's attack? Well, he told Megan, which I should have anticipated, I mean, they are together after all. And of course Megan told Don and Don – he freaked out a bit after learning I've been grazed and then having vanished for a while."

Slowly, Noah nodded. "Understandably."

"Sure," Charlie agreed. "But you forget that Don's also a very good senior FBI agent. I've told him the cover story but he didn't believe one word of it. And he knows now that I've really gotten hurt and that…" he interrupted himself and looked back at his friend. "Noah, Don is my big brother. He takes that very seriously so he's a bit overprotective of me. Which means that he's not going to stand by and just ignore that someone has hurt me."

"So you think he'll want to investigate," Noah concluded.

Charlie gave a sharp laugh. "Damn right he will. He already interrogated Suttner about the cover story and while the chief assured him that all was accurate – he didn't buy it. He won't stop until he gets to the bottom of this, Noah. And I can't stop him. He won't listen to me."

For a moment, Noah thought about that. "Well, we could see to it that Bob or Jean have a little talk with his boss to warn him to but out."

But Charlie immediately shook his head. "That won't do it. Don's a very reliable and sensible agent but this is not work for him. This is personal. This is family. I'm his little brother. Getting a reprimand will only spur him on I think." He made a face and looked away, his mind straying to their childhood. "Don has a habit to get in trouble over me, totally lacking any care for his own best interests anymore," he told Noah tonelessly.

Like that time in high school when Don beat up the boys that had beaten up Charlie, which earned him a suspension and two months of grounding. Don hadn't minded one bit but Charlie had hardly been able to bear it. Why couldn't Don understand that him getting in trouble because of Charlie hurt Charlie more than anything anyone could have done to him? And now, if they really demanded Don officially to but out and his brother wouldn't listen… Charlie couldn't allow Don to risk his career! Don lived to be an agent, he was born for it, that was what made him so good at it.

But how could he bring Don to stop his own investigation? He had already tried to tell him to not do this, he all but pleaded with him last evening to not get involved with this, to just let it rest. Obviously, it had been to no use. Otherwise, Don would hardly have called Suttner to verify the story Charlie had told him. It hadn't all been a lie. Charlie was really working on an analysis to improve reaction time for the LAPD and it did involve staged scenarios like he had described them to Don. Most of the tests were over though and he was already deep in analyzing the results. When that shooting happened and Charlie had called it in, Jean, the operation leader, had decided to tarn it as part of that test, should it become necessary. Jean and Suttner were friends, so that hadn't been hard to arrange.

Still – Charlie had hated to lie to Don. He knew it was necessary, but that didn't make it any easier for him. Don was his brother. He didn't want to loose his trust and he knew only too well that lying to him was one of the fastest ways to accomplish that. Especially as his lying hadn't been to much use, hadn't it been? Don had not believed one word of what Charlie had told him. No wonder with the evidence of the graze right there.

"Hey! Charlie! Come back to us, Chap!"

Charlie came out of his thoughts to blink at Noah.

"You've spaced out on me," Noah said. "I hope you had one of your genius strokes."

Instead of answering, Charlie just shook his head. He seriously wished it had been something like that as well. Of course he was used to worry about Don, but this time it was different. This time he worried because he himself was the reason why Don could get in danger or trouble – or both. And he feared that it would mess up everything he and Don had managed to gain over the past few years. Yeah, that was what he probably feared the most. Especially after their fight this morning. It had been a while since they had had an argument like this and yeah, Charlie hated it.

He knew that they needed to talk about it, clear the air between them. With Don's line of work they couldn't afford to leave things between them with a fight. Who knew when tragedy struck? So it may not be fair, but Charlie usually made it a point not to fight with Don. Or when it did happen, to reconcile with him as soon as possible. He would never forgive himself if something happened and the last words he and Don had exchanged were words of anger and repercussions.

Yeah, he definitely needed to resolve things with Don, even though he wasn't quite sure how this time. It wasn't as if he could just go and tell Don the truth. Nor did he feel as if he was in the wrong this time. He wasn't. Even if Don worried, he had no right to simply but into Charlie's business without the least regard of Charlie's wishes in that matter.

Damn it.

Noah frowned. "Charlie – you need to get a grip of yourself. We need you on this one. You're the only one I know who can possibly figure out this code."

"I know," Charlie sighed. "Me and Kovlav. Unfortunately though we all know that Kovlav's not on our side but on Vision's."

"Exactly. As well as we know that it's better for this world that you break the code before Kovlav," Noah agreed.

"Noah, I know what's at stake, believe me. But I just can't…" Charlie rubbed his neck and hung his head. "I can't help it. I can't concentrate. I'm just too worried about what Don's going to do next."

Noah was silent for a while. Finally, he sighed and reached out to give Charlie's shoulder a squeeze. "Okay. You know what? I think you'll need a break. You've worked on this for weeks now and you hardly took any breaks. Go home, get your bike and go for a ride. Or drive out to the Valley for a short hike. And talk to your brother, Charlie. Perhaps you're right and he is a bit stubborn when it's about you. That would only be natural. But from what I've heard of him he is also a good agent who follows reason and logic. He probably already suspects that this has something to do with another agency. I know you can't give him any details – just tell him enough for him to back off."

"I already tried that…" Charlie started to protest.

"No. You tried to not tell him anything at all which is just what you're supposed to do," Noah withspoke. "But Don's FBI. He's a senior agent. It's not like you're telling a student or another civilian anything. Be frank. Tell him you're working on something for us, that you can't give details but that we're looking for your safety."

Charlie offered a weak smile. "I'm not sure that's enough for Don."

"Then make sure it's enough. You know him best. Tell him whatever is necessary for him to back off so you can concentrate on what we all need you to do," Noah gently told him then stood up, giving Charlie's shoulder another squeeze. "Come on, Chap, go home now. I'll talk to Jean, cover for you."

Charlie hesitated a moment longer, then he nodded. Noah was right. He really needed a break. And a ride would help clear his mind, to focus. "Okay," he gave in and stood up as well, starting to pack away his laptop. He stopped briefly to look into Noah's dark eyes. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Noah shrugged and helped himself to another peanut. "Hey, the faster you break that code, the sooner I can have my vacation and head out to the beach to surf and find myself a nice hot babe for the nights."

Rolling his eyes, Charlie grinned. "Just don't forget the sun lotion or you'll look like a hummer again. I'm not sure how your chances with that hot babe will be then."

Noah just grinned dirtily. "Aww, then I just score myself a nice hot nurse, Chap."

"You're a pig," Charlie stated dryly.

"And you're a geek," Noah retorted unfazed. "That's why I get more love than you. So I'm perfectly okay to be a pig."

Laughing, Charlie slapped his arm and then headed towards the exit. He couldn't wait to get home and switch the car for his bike.

He really needed a ride, clear his mind, recharge his energies.

Noah was right about Don as well. Charlie would try to talk and reason with his brother again that evening. He was pretty sure that Don would come home tonight to keep watch over him again. He was no fool – he knew exactly that that had been the reason for Don to stay the previous night and not head over to his own apartment. Charlie didn't need to be a genius to know that he'd need all the energy he could muster up for that talk with his brother and convince his protective big brother to keep out of this. Or that his chances to achieve that would still be very low.

* * *

Cursing, Don smashed the phone back onto its station, seething and trembling at the same time.

Now what?

The last time his mysterious caller had contacted him, Don had learned shortly after that his brother had been in danger. But even if it was the same case again this time, he had no idea where Charlie was, with whom he was or what he was doing.

Damn it! And damn Charlie for being so stupidly secretive!

Running his hands through his hair, Don forced himself to calm down. He needed to be calm or he wouldn't accomplish anything. First things first. He took up the phone again.

"Rick? I just got a call again. See if it's listed this time," Don barked.

Rick sighed. "Sure, Eppes. Anything for you. I've got nothing else to do at all but be at your beck and call."

Don's grip on the phone tightened. "Don't fool around now, Rick, just do what I've told you."

"You know, I remember a time when you've been at least remotely funny, not that your sense of humor had ever been that good," Rick just answered but at least Don could hear him typing away on his keyboard.

The phone had to break any moment now, that hard a pressure was Don applying onto it. "Rick, this is not a joke. A guy keeps calling me to warn me about Charlie being in some sort of danger. I need to know who this is and from where he calls me. Or at least how he manages to call me without it leaving any sort of trace."

"Charlie?" Rick asked and any trace of humor had left his voice.

"Yeah."

"Okay, just give me a moment here," Rick answered, sounding all business now. Rick liked Charlie, respected and admired him. Actually, Don suspected he was one of those geek groupies Charlie seemed to have.

He had noticed that before, how some people from Charlie's world almost treated his brother as a rock star or some sort of baseball legend. It was funny to watch – usually. Sometimes though he couldn't help but wonder. He knew his brother was special, no one knew that probably better than him. But that other scientists regarded him with such awe… he sometimes wondered just how extraordinary Charlie really was. And he couldn't say that he liked those people's behavior much – not because he resented the attention his brother got from them, but because he could see that Charlie himself didn't feel too comfortable among groupies. They had never talked about it, but Don was good at reading body language and he was an expert in his brother's nonverbal language.

After their mother's death, someone had to and he had promised their mom to look out for Charlie. It was a promise he took very seriously and the more he got to know the man his brother had become, the more important it became for him. And surprisingly, it hadn't been as hard as he had thought it would be. After coming back from Albuquerque and finding Charlie locked up in the garage and in that world of his that only consisted of numbers and nothing else he had thought he would never been able to understand his brother. Their mother was dying and Charlie refused to go see her? No, that was something he would never understand and yeah, he had resented Charlie a long time for that.

But he had made that promise on his mother's death bed and there was no way that he would break it. So he had made an effort to reach out to his brother and gradually, they had approached each other again. It wasn't until a year later and Charlie started to consult for him that they really made progress, starting to get to know each other better – and respect each other more. And in the end, it hadn't been that hard. Despite the differences and perhaps even resentment on Don's part in their childhood, Don always had a way to get through to Charlie and bring him out of his numbers. He knew he understood Charlie quite well, not his numbers, but Charlie the person, his little brother. Reading him had never been so hard for Don and he knew that in a way, he even got his brother better than their father who lived with Charlie. Perhaps it was because once during their early childhood, the way his little brother's face lit up when Don wanted to do some normal things with him like throw some balls or go to the park had very early prompted him to do just that, had made Don realize that Charlie needed such things as much as he needed the tutors to show him the wonders of math. So he teased him, played him pranks and fought with him at the same time he did the brother thing like watch out for him, teach him how to play ball or scare away the bullies.

It was true that there were many times he remembered from their childhood in which he really had hated Charlie's specialty and how everything always seemed to revolve around him. There was anger, there was jealousy and there was hurt. But there were other times, times that were just good, where he and Charlie had just fooled around or when they had stuck together against their parents to hide the fact that they had broken their mother's favorite vase by playing ball in the house. He remembered how Charlie would yell the loudest when Don made a homerun or how his little brother would always came running to him, full of excitement to tell him he made a new discovery, sometimes even before he went to Mom. And most of all, he remembered how Charlie had always looked up at him, how no matter what Don told him in his anger or frustration, the big brown eyes of his brother held nothing but love and admire for his big brother.

Yeah, it were the good times he remembered more and more and he was grateful for that. It helped cross that distance that had formed between them from the time the two boys had left their home to go to college until he had come back to LA for good and deepen that bond that would always bind them two together. The bond of brothers.

So when he saw people like Rick or outside consultants they sometimes asked onto a case to help them and work with Charlie and they then treated Charlie like some sort of wonder boy and he saw how Charlie was really uncomfortable with that, he grew more and more resentful towards such people. Charlie always had been a lonely child. There was not one friend Don could name that Charlie had had from their childhood, simply because there hadn't been any. Charlie's specialty had always set him apart. Children his age stayed away from him because they always had been able to sense that he was not like them. And soon, Charlie had been thrown into groups with children much older than him and of course the older kids ignored him – and, like the younger ones, they too weren't comfortable with him around, that strange guy who almost always talked just about numbers and statistical probability. In a way, as Don realized now, they all had been afraid of him and his abilities.

Back then Don hadn't understood it all or just why his little brother always wanted to spend his free time with his big brother. Of course he had known that Charlie was different and that he didn't seem to have any friends, but he never had made a conscious relation between those facts. That hadn't come until years later. But after he had, he had thought that that must have changed later, when Charlie had grown up and was among bright minds just like his. And for a long time, Don had believed that at least now, things had changed for Charlie. After all, when he had come back to LA he had found a well respected math professor who often hung out with his buddies from the university.

Until he had gotten a closer look at his brother's life and how even the people of the scientific world treated him as someone set apart from them. And he realized that in reality, Charlie only seemed to have one true friend and that was Larry Fleinhard and even he was much more a mentor than someone who qualified as a best friend. Of course there was also Amita, but she was another story altogether. Truth was that Charlie seldom went out to just chill and the few times he did, he usually went with Larry and as much as Don respected the older man – he wasn't that much fun, at least not fun to have _with_ him. He had watched how Charlie had almost timidly started to hang out a bit with David and Colby but he had also seen that while they did accept him rather easily and Charlie did relax with them a great deal – Charlie also always seemed to be on guard. Less guard than usual perhaps, but he could feel a certain apprehension in his brother that just wouldn't leave him.

And it made Don terribly sad for his brother and at the same time, more and more angry with people. Okay, so Charlie was special, different. His IQ may be off the roof and he may be a human calculator but hell, he was still a human with needs like every one else. Especially those smart people who called themselves scientists and were part of the geek community should really know better than treat Charlie differently and set him apart even in his own world.

"Don?"

Startled out of his dark thoughts, Don needed a moment to detect where he was. Right. Office, threat, Rick. "You've got something for me?"

"There's no call listed again. I'm not sure yet how this is possible but I have a few ideas. I'll need time to check them out though until I can be sure how this is possible," Rick said and he sounded sorry.

Don sighed, not too surprised at those news. "Okay, just do what you can and get back to me the second you've got something."

"Will do," Rick answered eagerly and already, he was gone.

Don laid the phone in its station and put his elbows onto the desk to rest his head in his hands. He was at the end with his wits. He didn't know what Charlie was involved with and who would want to harm him, see him dead. He had no idea if this caller was one of the good or the bad guys and his words weren't to much use other than worry Don to no end. What danger was Charlie in, what games were they playing with his little brother and who the hell were 'they'?

Was this some sort of revenge? The way the caller had talked, Don had gotten that impression but if that was true, revenge for what? What had Charlie done that could prompt such repercussions? And for whom had he done this? Against whom?

After his phone call with Charlie, Don had contacted a guy he knew from the NSA to ask him if he knew something or if he could see if he could learn if Charlie was working on a case for the NSA. His contact hadn't known anything but he had said he'd see what he could find out. But even if he did, there was no guarantee that he would or could also tell Don about it.

Still, so far it was the only thing Don could do as his brother stalled him. And he had a hunch that this mess was somehow involved with the NSA, it practically reeked after them.

"Don?"

Growling, he looked up to see Megan once again hovering over him with worried eyes.

"Did something happen?" she asked, knowingly.

His first instinct was to brush her off, but then he hesitated. He could see already that she wouldn't believe him anyway and besides, she was his partner and his second in command. Plus, she had been there with him all the way, yesterday. Perhaps, she deserved to know as well – and professionally, if this thing continued, Don knew that she actually needed to know. He had no intention to take time and give up his leadership but he needed someone to keep an eye on him. With Charlie involved he would not be able to be completely professional.

So he told her the truth. "Yesterday afternoon I received a call from a man who gave me a simple message: Your brother's in danger, keep an eye on him." He stared into Megan's eyes. "Two hours later you came to tell me that someone had used my brother as target practice." As Megan said nothing, he continued and nodded at his phone. "I got another one right after you left. He again warned me that Charlie's still in danger. That someone is playing a deadly game with him and that I should watch him."

It was a long moment before Megan spoke. "You have no idea who that mysterious caller is?"

Don shook his head. "No, I've never heard his voice and it sounds as he's not scrambling or muffling it. I've talked to Rick to see if he can tell me something but apparently, none of the calls are listed. It's like they've never happened. And I have no idea if this guy just wants to taunt me or if he really tries to warn me about Charlie being in danger. I don't know," he said quietly, giving Megan a long look. "But whatever it is, after what happened yesterday and Charlie's strange behavior… He sure got my attention." He shook his head. "Do you see now why I can't leave this alone? No matter on which side this guy is – it's clear that whatever is going on revolves around Charlie and, Megan, if something happens to Charlie…" he couldn't finish the sentence.

Nothing could happen to his baby brother. It just couldn't.

Slowly, Megan nodded and took a deep breath. "So what's your plan?"

Yeah, that was the big question, wasn't it? "You have any contacts high up?"

"Maybe," Megan answered quietly.

"Then see if you can find out if and with what Charlie's involved. And though I hate to cut Colby's and David's leave short, ask them to do the same, will you? Rick's working on the calls to find out how it's possible that there's no trace of them," Don told her.

Megan nodded. "And what are you going to do?"

Don sighed and stood up. "I'll try to talk to Charlie again."

It really was his only option. This time around though, he'd try to really talk to his brother – and not just demand answers. Perhaps, if Charlie knew about the calls that scared Don so much, he maybe would finally tell him at least the basics of what was going on.

"That sounds like a good idea," Megan agreed.

Before Don could respond, his phone rang once again. He grabbed it. "Eppes."

There was a brief pause before an unknown voice hesitantly started to speak. "Agent Donald Eppes? FBI?"

"Yes," Don confirmed impatiently. "Who is this?"

He didn't have time to loose.

"Sir, this is Officer Leo Keats, LAPD. I'm contacting you about a car bomb that has gone off forty minutes ago."

Don frowned, unease settling down in his gut. "So? What's this got to do with me? Is it related to the FBI?" Though he doubted that. He got his calls to respond to from either dispatch or Merrick personally.

Officer Keats sounded even more reluctant as he answered and suddenly, Don was feeling the same dread again like he had the day before. "Sir, we checked the license plate and apparently, the car belongs to one Dr Charles Edward Eppes. And there was a message to notify you immediately, in case something occurred, Agent Eppes." He was silent for a moment while Don felt waves of panic and fear crashing over him and pulling him under. "I understand he was your brother?"

_Was._

No.

No, that couldn't be.

_It couldn't be._

Swallowing, Don tried to speak, but no word came over his lips. He gripped the phone harder, not noticing how his entire body had started to tremble. All he was aware of was that tiny little hope he clung to. It couldn't be, it just couldn't. But he needed to know. So he tried again.

"Was… was someone… inside?" he managed to get out, his hoarse voice nothing like his own.

"Agent Eppes – we found the remains of a body in the driver's seat," Officer Keats gently told him sorrowfully.

Still, Don shook his head as his knees finally gave out and he sank down onto his chair, the tidal waves of panic pulling him more and more down into the depths of despair.

"No."

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: First of all: Thanks to Charlieeppes who was so kind to beta this chapter for me. I think you did a marvelous work. Second, sorry for the long time this update took. RL got into the way. Hope you liked this chapter anyway. Thanks for all the great reviews, I loved them!)_


	6. Shock

**Chapter 6: Shock**

Megan wasn't sure what was going on, but whatever it was, it had to be bad. Very bad. One moment, Don was speaking impatiently into his phone, the next he blanched, started to tremble to all but collapse back into his chair, chalk white and shaking his head, whispering 'No' over and over again.

No, this couldn't be good, she thought dreadfully as she pried the phone out of Don's shaking hand, her other hand squeezing his shoulder hard. "This is Agent Reeves, I'm Don's partner. What's going on?" she demanded to know in a tone that didn't allow any refusal.

And sure enough, the guy at the other end didn't waste a second before answering. "Officer Keats, LAPD. We got called to the scene of a car bomb. It's Agent Eppes' brother's car."

Her stomach turned upside down and suddenly, she held on to Don's shoulder for her own support. "And Charlie?"

This time Officer Keats did hesitate. "We found a body in the driver's seat, Agent Reeves. But we'll have to wait for the DNA to come back to make a positive identification."

Megan closed her eyes, fighting off nausea. God... But she couldn't give in to the urge to crumble down right now. Her partner needed her to take over. Swallowing, she tried to focus on what needed to be done. After her third try to speak, she finally managed to get out the necessary orders. "Seal the scene, don't let anyone touch the car or the body. This is now a FBI investigation. Wait until our guys arrive and look to it that nothing and no one disturbs that scene."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She thought of anything else to add and realized with a start that she had no idea where she had to send the team to. "Where are you?"

"In front of 47 West Temple Street, Ma'am."

Megan nodded, staring blindly out of the window. "We'll be with you shortly."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Slowly, Megan put the phone down before she forced herself to turn back to Don. Her partner hadn't moved but at least, he had stopped shaking his head and repeating 'No' over and over again. Instead, he stared ahead, his eyes totally unfocused but full of turmoil. And fear. Lots and lots of fear. She felt her throat closing off and had to suppress a sob that threatened to escape her.

Charlie...

This couldn't be happening. And this couldn't be Don, her partner, who always was so strong, confident and determined.

But this was Charlie, Charlie who most likely was lying in bits and pieces all over West Temple Street, burnt to un-recognition. Sweet, passionate, extraordinary Charlie, gone, blown up…

No. No, she couldn't allow herself to think about Charlie now. She couldn't. She needed to concentrate on what needed to be done. And she needed to take care of her partner. She couldn't help Charlie anymore, but she owed it to him to help his brother now. And later, when this was over and she was alone in the sanctuary of her apartment, then she would be able to give in and have a breakdown over her friend's brutal death, but only then.

Swallowing back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her, she squatted down in front of Don, taking both of his hands into her own.

"Don," she called out softly, but urgently.

No reaction.

"Don," she tried again, more forceful this time.

Still no reaction.

Closing her eyes briefly, she tightened her grip on his hands, burying her nails into his palms. "_Don!_"

Finally, he blinked, his eyes slowly focusing. She could barely bear the pain she saw in them. "Megan," he chocked. "Charlie…"

"I know," she whispered back sadly.

"He… He…"

She tightened her hold on his hands. "I know," she repeated simply.

Don shook his head, his eyes loosing focus again. "It's not… It can't be…" he stuttered and suddenly, he was staring intensely into her eyes. "It's not true. It's not him. It's not my brother. It's not Charlie. It can't be," he insisted with ferocity, but in the end, his voice cracked.

Megan couldn't help it anymore. Her eyes watered and she felt a tear running over her cheek. She fought to answer. "Don…" was all she could bring out. She didn't want to give him false hope but neither could she bring herself to crash that tiny shred of last hope Don had. So she swallowed and played along. "I hope so. We'll know for sure once we get back the DNA-results."

At the mention of DNA, Don's head snapped up and all of a sudden, the despaired brother vanished and the mask of the steely agent fell down. He took a deep breath, pushed away Megan's hands and jumped up. Without uttering a word, he pushed past her towards the stairs. Megan didn't loose any time. She grabbed her bag and hurried after her partner, reaching for her cell phone. There was no doubt where Don was headed to and Megan didn't even try to stop him. Especially as she was pretty sure that he didn't know where the scene was in the first place. She would just make sure to not leave him out of her eyes. By the time she reached the stairs, Don was already one floor ahead of her. Cursing, she hurried up, dialing David.

After the fourth ring, David picked up. "Aww, come on, Megan. It hadn't been even two days yet."

"David, get Colby then come to 47 West Temple Street," she simply ordered her team member.

"Can't this wait?" David sighed.

Usually, Megan would play along. But this wasn't usual, she thought bitterly, her eyes fixed onto Don's back who was racing down to the garage.

"No. It's Charlie, David", she snapped. "Someone blew up his car. And it looks like Charlie was in it."

That shut David up.

* * *

Warily, Colby got out of the car and tentatively walked towards the scene. The burnt out wreck of the car was easy to spot, even without the crime scene tape, the colleagues of the LAPD and the group of spectators assembled around it.

He swallowed as unbidden memories tried to come up but he fought them down. Then he swallowed again as his nose took up the strong smell of smoke, burned rubber and burned flesh still lingering in the air and for the first time in a long time, Colby felt the contents of his lunch coming up.

Damn it.

He was no rookie anymore and what he had seen while serving in Afghanistan had been many times worse.

He caught a glimpse of what was left of the driver and had to stop and close his eyes, once again swallowing down the bile that had lurched upwards.

Or perhaps not.

He had seen brothers fall, had seen women, children and old people being executed without mercy, had seen and suffered torture that had nothing to do with humanity anymore.

But this was different.

This was the Whiz Kid, good, positive, enthusiastic, lively Charlie who somehow had managed to sneak his way into Colby's hardened heart. He had been determined to not let anyone in again but when David had called him to tell him that the Whiz Kid very likely had just got blown up, he had to realize that no matter his intentions, he had allowed Charlie in without his knowledge and now...

_(Flashback)_

_"Man, have you any idea what you just interrupted?" Colby groaned into the phone, looking longingly at the blond who he was sure was just about to agree to come out for a drink with him._

_"It's Charlie, Colby. Megan just called. His car got blown up while he seemed to have been driving it," David said tonelessly._

_The blond was forgotten in a second as Colby gasped, an unknown pain clutching his heart suddenly. "What?"_

_"47 West Temple Street," David just said. "Hurry. Megan and Don are already on their way."_

_The line went dead and for a full minute, Colby could only stare at the phone in his hand, trying to comprehend what he had just heard._

_(End Flashback)_

Clenching his jaw, Colby shook away the memory and reminded himself of who he was, where he was and what needed to be done. Spotting Megan and David, he steeled his face and walked over to his team members.

"Colby - good that you're here," Megan greeted him, relieved. But she avoided to meet his eyes and so did David and that was enough to have his control wavering once again.

Shit.

"Got anything already?" he asked harshly.

David shook his head. "Barely. All we know is that according to the witnesses, the car was driving down the street and suddenly, it simply exploded. So it's pretty safe to assume that either it was timed - or someone used a remote control." He said it in a detached tone and perhaps, he could have pulled it off - if it weren't for the fact that David was very careful to neither mention Charlie's name or to look at his team members or the wreck.

Megan nodded. "Someone should see to it that we film the group of spectators. It's very much possible that our guy stayed to admire his handiwork."

"I'll see to it," David hurriedly assured and headed away.

Not sure what to say, Colby asked the question he feared second to most. "Where's Don?"

Megan just nodded into the direction of the wreck. Following her direction, his eyes needed a moment to finally spot Don, with his back to everyone, crouching low beside the driver's seat, staring at the remains of the driver and once more, Colby felt his emotions threatening to overcome him. He had started to look upon the Whiz Kid as a little brother himself, he knew that now, and the thought that this burned skeleton could be his friend was simply terrifying and paralyzing. And he had only known the genius for barely two years. But Don was his big brother for real and the first thing Colby had learned after joining Don Eppes' team was that there was only one way to piss off the agent real fast and that was messing with his kid brother.

This...

He shook his head. No, he couldn't imagine what Don had to go through at the moment. But he knew with absolute certainty that whoever had done this would regret it bitterly - and Colby wouldn't want it any other way. In fact, once Don was through with the bastard and if something was still left of him by then - then Colby wanted to _have his_ turn with the asshole.

Finally - anger. Now that was an emotion he could work with, use it to get through this.

"How's he holding up?" he asked Megan.

Megan just shrugged. "So far he's managing - in a way. Has barely spoken a word though. The last he said was that it wasn't - Charlie," she finished after a gulp.

Colby frowned. "Denial or instinct?"

But Megan shook her head. "Hell if I know. All I know is that this is definitely Charlie's car, that there was a man sitting in the driver's seat when it exploded and that Charlie has failed to pick up his phone so far. All you get is the message that it's out of service." She swallowed. "I don't need to be a math genius to figure out that the chance that this," she pointed at the car wreck, "is _not_ Charlie is pretty much like zero."

Right.

But still... "We don't have a positive ID yet, though, do we?"

"No. We'll have to use DNA and dental records." Megan sighed. "I called Merrick. He agreed to let us lead the investigation for the moment, as long as I'm in charge, and he promised to put a rush onto the analysis for the identification. Until then..." she trailed off and turned away.

Gritting his teeth, Colby looked back to Don who hadn't moved an inch. God, he hoped that this was not Charlie and he so much wanted to believe that this body couldn't be the extraordinary math genius - but at the same time he never had been much of an optimist and facts were facts.

_"Numbers don't lie," _echoed Charlie's voice in his mind.

"Hope they're wrong this time, Whiz Kid," he murmured and slowly headed over to his boss.

He really didn't want to confront Don right now, but someone had to deal with him and something told him that he was probably the best choice for that, with the past he had.

Besides, he had promised Charlie.

_(Flashback)_

_Laughing, Colby shook his head, eyeing the smaller man sitting beside him at the bar. "Whiz Kid, you're not half that bad," he stated, surprising himself by admitting that at all and now even in public. _

_But somehow, with this guy, he just couldn't otherwise. There was something in the younger man that brought out Colby's protectiveness and at the same time, broke through every wall and shield he had build up around himself during his life. Seeing and recognizing things no one should be able to see, surely though not a simple math professor. _

_Then again, he hadn't known the young genius for long, but Colby already could tell that nothing was simple with this guy._

_Charlie just chuckled, shrugging. "Tell you what, G.I. - you're not so bad yourself."_

_G.I.?_

_Anyone else would have paid for that but all Colby did was laugh even louder, giving the slimmer man a slap that spiraled him forward, sputtering. "Better watch your words, Whiz Kid. You never know how the other guy may react."_

_But Charlie shook his head, straightening. "That's not quite correct. Based on previous observations, combined with what you know of someone's background and his general behavior, you can make a pretty accurate guess at how a certain person may react to various situations, topics and emotions."_

_"Oh no, Whiz Kid, no math and no numbers. We're here to have fun, remember?" Colby groaned, but he couldn't help but grin. If anyone had told him six months ago that he would find himself hanging out at a bar with no one else than the Whiz Kid and actually thoroughly enjoy it, he would have laughed out loud. And now look where he was._

_Charlie grinned back. "Colby - numbers _are_ fun."_

_Colby shook his head. "Dude - you've still got a lot to learn if you think like that."_

_"Really? Like what?" Charlie asked amused, rising an eyebrow._

_Colby shrugged. "Sports, barbecue, sex, drinking, cars, sex..."_

_"You've already said that," interrupted him Charlie._

_Colby nodded. "I know. But the ladies are the most important part of ways to have fun, kiddo," he told the genius with a dirty grin._

_"Ah, I see," Charlie replied, smiling. "Let's see: I play basketball, do a little diving, parachuting, climbing, hiking, biking and occasionally, I'm surfing and yep, it's all fun but sorry to tell you, it's all numbers. Barbecue is undeniable a fine thing but there too you need basic math to time just the right amount of time to grill the meat, evolving which type of grill it is, the heating time, the tenure of the meat, such things. I don't really can hold much of a drink and most cars are boring, even though they're an assemble of pure math. And as for the ladies..." His smile intensified and he turned around, viewing the bar. "Using math I can tell you with which of the women here you'll have the biggest chance to go home with."_

_"Oh yeah?" Colby laughed sarcastically._

_"Oh yeah," Charlie insisted and nodded towards a hot redhead, sitting at one of the tables with a group of friends. "Take this girl for example: your chances to score with her tonight are pretty good. She's out looking for fun, she's dressed to kill and you can tell that her legs are freshly shaved so it's safe to assume that she's out for sex."_

_Colby studied the redhead for a moment before nodding. "Probably, but it takes no genius to figure that out."_

_Charlie nodded towards a booth in the corner where Colby could make out a sweet brunette, apparently engrossed in the book in front of her . "Okay, take her. What would you think if I tell you that she's the one most likely to go with you tonight?"_

_Colby laughed. "No way, Whiz Kid."_

_"You'd be wrong. Sure, it doesn't look like she's out for something: she's reading, her clothes are not overly revealing, she's here already too long to be waiting for someone, not keeping an eye on the arriving customers either so it's safe to assume she's here on her own free will and that she seems perfectly happy to be alone," Charlie pointed out then turned to Colby. "But if that is all true, then why is she here and not home, enjoying a quiet evening with her book?" He shook his head. "Studies of behavior would mark her as an anomaly but often, it's the anomalies who can tell you the most. That girl, she's here for the chase, but like a spider in her net, she sits in that booth and waits for someone to get curious, pitiful or brave enough to go disturb her. She hasn't read more than five pages since we've come here so either she's an extremely slow reader which is unlikely or she really is observing the people in the car, making her choices. And you and I, Colby, are the lucky guys who'll have the most chance at the moment because we not only notice her, but we are also most likely the guys who meet her requirements. Observant, of a certain intelligence, not too bad looking and with an air of authority around us, at least you and this woman is not one to go for non dominants." He glanced back at the brunette before turning back around to sip at his beer. "Oh yeah, the numbers are all in your favor with her, Granger."_

_Frowning, Colby glanced from the girl to Charlie and back again. "I don't believe it."_

_Charlie shrugged. "Try it."_

_Perking up at that, Colby turned back to Charlie. "Are you suggesting a bet?"_

_Charlie made a face. "It's impolite to bet on the ladies."_

_"Wuss," taunted Colby._

_Charlie's eyes narrowed just a bit. "You'll lose."_

_"In your dreams perhaps," Colby gave back, confidently._

_Charlie shrugged. "Ask Don. It's not wise to bet against a mathematician." _

_"The greater the challenge, the more rewarding the victory," Colby responded, his eyes glinting. He loved to bet._

_Rolling his eyes, Charlie met his eyes. "Okay, I guess you need a little lesson: if I'm wrong, I promise not to mention math again while hanging out with you. Deal?"_

_A bit surprised at that suggestion, Colby thought for a moment. He couldn't believe for a second that the Whiz Kid would ever be able to hold his word on that one. Charlie lived and breathed math, that was his world. Colby didn't understand it but he knew that much. So why was he offering such a high stake for this silly little bet now? _

_On the other hand - he really liked hanging out with the kid and if this bet would safe him at least a few math lessons, all the better. So he nodded. "Deal." Then he thought for a moment, unsure of what he could offer to meet Charlie's high stake._

_Apparently noticing his dilemma, Charlie made a suggestion. "I'd know something you could do for me if I'm right with her," he offered._

_"And that would be?" Colby wanted to know._

_Suddenly serious, Charlie stared straight into his eyes. "I want you to promise me that you watch Don's back."_

_Taken aback at Charlie's demand, Colby frowned. "I'm on his team. Of course I look out for him. That's what a team is there for. We look out for each other."_

_But Charlie shook his head. "I know that. I ask you to watch out for him outside of that." He was silent for a moment, his eyes keeping Colby's captured. "I know you all have to see a lot on your job. And as a leader, Don's burden is even greater. He deals pretty well with it, I think, but sometimes, even he needs someone to listen - or simply understand. You, you can relate to him. With your past in the army and your background, you are the one out of the team who's the most likely to be able to get Don to listen to you - open up. I can see it. So I'd like your promise that when he needs you, you'll be there for him."_

_Colby had never heard Charlie sounding more sincere and it was easy to see that this was very important for the Whiz Kid. He was dead serious about this. For a moment, it occurred to Colby that this was not something that should be in any relation with a bet - and at the same time he wondered if somehow, this harmless math professor hadn't managed to get him right where he had wanted him. Actually, now thinking about it, he was pretty sure that he had just been majorly played by the Whiz Kid. _

_Then again, it hardly mattered. He began to understand just what the younger man was asking him and he felt a sudden surge of gratitude, pride and warmth that Charlie had singled him out for this task that was probably as important to the mathematician as his math. _

_Slowly, he nodded gravely. "I promise."_

_Charlie studied him for a long moment longer, until he nodded as well. "If the lady says yes," he lightened their conversation with a small smile._

_Colby's eyes never left the big brown eyes of the genius. "I promise," he repeated._

_Another long moment of Charlie staring into his eyes before he nodded again, slowly. "Good."_

_Only then did Colby stand up and, with a slap onto Charlie's back, headed towards the lady. Promise or no promise, they still had a bet to settle._

_(End Flashback)_

With a start, Colby came back from his memories. Shit. He couldn't afford to space out like this. He had a job to do.

And he had a promise to hold.

Needless to say that Colby had left that bar with the brunette shortly after his talk with Charlie.

If it had to do with numbers, the Whiz Kid was always right as Colby had soon learned the hard way. And you really shouldn't bet against a mathematician. All you could was loose. Not that he had minded to lose that special bet. He had a few very good times with that brunette. And even more importantly, he and Charlie had bonded that night over the promise he had made to Charlie, opening up the ways for them to become closer friends.

His eyes fell onto the body, the black, shrimpled skin straining over the bones, traces of burnt hair still attached to the skull, gaping holes where once were big, expressive brown eyes...

Once more, nausea hit him like it hadn't in years and he swallowed hard. No. No, he couldn't loose it. He owed it to Charlie to be on his best in order to catch the bastard responsible for this. So he forced himself to look away from the body and turn his entire focus on the one Eppes he actually really could do something to help him - perhaps.

"Hey."

There was no answer, no movement at all. It didn't look as if his boss had even noticed him coming up behind him. Something very unlikely for their leader.

Hesitating a moment, Colby finally reached out to lay a hand onto Don's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Don."

At first he thought Don still hadn't noticed his presence but just when he was about to repeat himself with even more insistence, Don spoke. "What do you want, Granger?" he asked harshly in a voice Colby barely recognized.

Taken aback slightly, Colby needed a second to get his wits together - not that he actually had had a plan in the first place. "What... Uh, what do you want me to do?" he finally asked.

Another long moment of silence. "See to it that every single footing of this street and the surrounding block gets on my desk by tomorrow morning. Building surveillance, satellite pictures, traffic control cameras, AMTs, some tourist filming the streets, I don't care. It's on my desk by tomorrow. I want to know from where this car came and I want to see the face of every last person who's been close to this scene for the half hour before and after the bomb went up."

Colby knew it was impossible to get all that data so soon. It would be a nightmare to get together all the footings if not impossible. But he didn't even think to protest and simply nodded. "Got it. Anything else?"

In reality, he wanted Don to move. It couldn't be healthy to stare at these remains for so long. Especially if it really was the Whiz Kid.

At the mere thought of the young man he felt his control slipping and angrily, he grasped at it, pushing the genius out of his mind.

"Yeah, try to see what you can find out about Charlie's movements for the past two weeks, start with the last couple of days," Don nodded. "But most importantly: get in touch with whoever you know high up, be it army, FBI or another agency and find out who of those incompetent idiots dragged my brother into this mess, whatever it is. Give me a name so I can go and give that asshole a piece of my mind." Slowly, he stood up and Colby noticed that his hands were balled to so tight fists that the knuckles stood out white. "First my brother gets shot at and now his car is blown up, with someone inside. I don't care what secret stuff is going on or on whose toes I might step on, I'm going to learn what is going on, grab Charlie and get him the hell out of it," he hissed, his face a mask of ice cold rage.

Involuntarily, Colby took a step back. He had thought he had seen Don angry, but obviously, he had been wrong. Don had been a pussycat on the worst he had so far seen him compared to how he was now. One had to be suicidal to even think about refusing this furious Don anything - but still... He had promised.

Reluctantly, Colby glanced at the body, his heart clenching. "Don... I can understand that you're angry and I can only imagine what you must be feeling right now, but... Don, think about it. Charlie wouldn't have wanted you to... I mean, Charlie was..."

He didn't get any further as suddenly, he found himself yanked forward by the collar of his shirt, right into Don's face, staring into two dark, boiling hot eyes. "_Is_, Granger, _is_," Don quietly corrected him. "This is not Charlie. I don't know where he is at the moment but I know that this is not him. And don't you dare tell me what my brother would want me to do now. You know nothing about it, is that understood?"

Colby had stared death into its eyes many times already, but never had he been as scared as he was now. With a sudden bolt he realized that with loosing Charlie, they would most likely loose Don as well - if they hadn't lost him already.

"Is that understood?" Don repeated, his eyes burning into Colby's.

Silently, Colby nodded. Gauging that it wasn't enough, he forced himself to speak as well. "Yeah, Don. Understood."

Something flashed in Don's eyes and all of a sudden, the fury was gone, leaving only despair behind and Don let go of him as if touching Colby had burned him, stepping back. His back connected with the car wreck and immediately, Don jerked forward, breathing deeply.

Colby stood his place, waiting. He wouldn't leave Don alone right now.

Warily, Don shook his head. "Sorry. I just..."

Colby shook his head. "It's okay."

Don wasn't looking at him or anyone else but only glanced back at the burned body. "It's not him," he whispered, desolate.

Colby sighed. He wished he could believe Don. He would give anything for the body not to be Charlie.

But as the Whiz Kid would be the first to remark: the numbers were against them in this case.

* * *

_It's not him, it's not him, it's not him._

That was Don's mantra ever since spotting his first glimpse of the body in his little brother's wreck of a car and he clung to it as if it was a lifeline.

In a way it was. He couldn't afford to think something else, to have the slightest doubt that this gruesome rest of what once had been a living and breathing human body was _not_ Charlie. Because if he didn't, then he knew without a shadow of a doubt that this would be it: the edge that meant his downfall, the point of no return. If he allowed himself to entertain the possibility that he had lost his little brother to something so vicious and cowardly as a car bomb, then he'd loose it and he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to get over that loss.

When had his brother become such a vital part of Don's life that even the thought of facing a life without Charlie in it was too much to bear?

The sad truth was that for a long time, Don may have loved Charlie as the dutiful big brother he was - and loosing him would have devastated him, sure - but not what he could now feel hovering beyond that edge: blackness and blankness. Emptiness.

If this was Charlie _(It's not him!_), then it would destroy Don. Simple as that. Not even his father's presence and his need for Don would be able to prevent that anymore.

Oh God - their father! How could he ever bring himself to tell their Dad that Charlie's car had been blown up with someone inside and Charlie himself being unaccounted for so far? Their mother's death had been hard enough on their Dad, and now this?

No, Don couldn't do this - but then, he hardly had a choice there, hadn't he? The car bomb would make the evening news and Don was sure that his father's parental instinct would help him recognize the wreck as Charlie's car immediately. And no matter what - he couldn't let his dad find out about this through the news. So he had to tell him. Somehow managing to convince his dad that the body wasn't Charlie, that their little genius was still out there, somewhere.

He had to be. The alternative was unacceptable.

Not that Don was worried.

_It's not him._

He stared at the body again.

He wasn't stupid. He may not like it, but the agent in him knew that so far, all evidence pointed towards Charlie being that body. It was his car, he had failed to respond to any tries to contact him, the body was obviously male, had Charlie's height and stature and from how it looked, even the same long hair as Charlie had. Oh yeah, the agent knew only too well that all logic told them that these were the remains of Dr Charles Edward Eppes.

But with this case, he wasn't just an agent. Foremost, he was a brother, Charlie's big brother and that brother refused to listen to the agent's reasoning. The brother knew only one thing with absolute certainty and that was that this man, whoever he had been, was not his little brother. There was no evidence to back him up in his belief, nothing that pointed towards him being right. And Don couldn't explain it, had no words for it. He just _knew_ that this wasn't Charlie.

Charlie lived in a world of facts, not believing in anything that had no basis in science and Don wasn't exactly far behind him. Evidence was everything in his job as well. But contrary to his brother, he had accepted that there existed things that could not be explained, that defied any rules of science and logic.

One of these things was instinct. Oh, his brother would vehemently contradict that, he's say that instinct could be led back to science, evolution or something like that, invisible electromagnetic waves or whatever. Perhaps that was true. He didn't care about that. He had just learned that in his line of duty, instinct was as important as evidence, if not even more important.

And it was pure instinct that told him now that this was not Charlie. That his little brother was alive.

Problem was that that was not enough to convince the others that they better concentrated on finding his little brother than waste their time moping around over this guy. Not that Don didn't feel with the guy. He definitely wanted to find out who he was and what he was doing in Charlie's car. But right now, finding his brother was more important. Not that an easy task with Charlie not answering any of the phones connected to him. Or with his brother suddenly turning all secretive on him, refusing to tell Don where he was spending his time lately. And him not even telling him what agency he was working for at the moment didn't help either.

Was he working with them somewhere now, deeply lost in his world of numbers, unaware that his brother was going through hell at the very same moment? Or had the bastards blowing up Charlie's car kidnapped him and were torturing him now in some shit hole, hoping that the car bomb would keep the police off their neck for a while? Was he hurt? Scared? Did he know that they wanted everyone to believe that he was dead, was he imagining what such news would do to Don and their father?

"Don?"

He looked up to see his team standing in front of him. Megan looking worried beyond her mind, David avoiding to meet his eyes and Colby with a rage in his eyes that at any other time would have worried Don. Now - now he simply registered it and filed it away for later use - like when he went after the bastards blowing up his little brother's car, trying to make him believe that Charlie was dead. Oh yeah... he was sure of who to go to first if he needed help with bringing them down. A realization that made him even more sorry to have lost it with Colby earlier on. But... hearing him talk like Charlie was already gone, hinting he had any idea how Don may feel in this living nightmare...

It hadn't gone past Don that his brother and his youngest team member had bonded, had became friends even, as unlikely a pair they were. Therefore he wasn't as surprised to see a glimpse of the same rage in Colby's eyes as he was feeling. He had seen how Colby had changed from dutifully tolerating Charlie's often participation on their cases to accept him as a full team member, one he not only befriended but one he held utmost respect for. In a way it had been funny to watch the hard ex-soldier going from doubting Charlie's work for them on every end to become more or less dependent on him helping them out with some equation he pulled out of the hat. Lately, Colby was often the first one to whine for asking Charlie to help them. Don was also aware that the way Colby treated Charlie nowadays was a rather brotherly one - an observation that left him with mixed feelings. For the most part he was glad for Charlie because his brother could really need more friends in Don's eyes. And at the same time, he couldn't help but feel a bit wary of it. Perhaps even a bit jealous. After all, he hadn't much things in his life that were special or there just for him. But Charlie and his devotion, admiration and love for Don, his big brother - that was perhaps the most precious thing Don had in his life and he may be a bit greedy with it, but he didn't want to loose even a tiny bit of this to anyone. He only had one brother and he was surprised to find out that he wasn't willing to share Charlie in that sense of the word.

In the end though, he didn't think he had cause to worry. If anything, Charlie was fiercely loyal and while he had a hard time acknowledging it, his heart knew that if Charlie would have to choose, he would always choose his brother. Don knew that he hadn't always appreciated such an unquestioned devotion as he should have, but he was learning to - or reminded of, he wasn't quite sure about that. While he did remember more and more of the good moments between him and Charlie, it was somehow hard to remember his feelings back then, or rather said, to sort them out. He knew that there had been love, as well as jealousy for Charlie back then. Sometimes also hurt, and sometimes pride. But had he really ever simply appreciated to have a younger brother in whose eyes he could do no wrong, in whose world he was the hero, no matter what?

_(Flashback)_

_"Donnie?"_

_Don refused to answer. The last person he wanted to talk to was his stupid nerd of a little brother. Ha! Brother! Pain in the ass would nail it better._

_"Donnie?"_

_Or wasn't it Charlie's fault (Again!) that they wouldn't do this weekend what Don wanted to do and like his parents had _promised_ him to, namely go to Sea World? But no, of course they weren't going! Why had he thought this time would be any different? Charlie had to go ruin it once more, winning yet another meaningless award. And now, instead of going to Sea World, they were going to Boston so the little genius could accept his award. It wasn't fair! This weekend was supposed to be his! Mom and Dad had promised him that he could say what they were doing this time! From the day on Charlie had solved his stupid math homework with three, Charlie had always messed up everything, so why should this have been any different? That cursed brain of his! _

_A gift, Mom said. _

_Ha! A curse, that was what it was._

_"Donnie?"_

_Angry, Don stared at the door, wishing Charlie would simply go away. Why couldn't Charlie leave him alone? Always, he had to hang out with Don, following him around like a lost little puppy. If one could at least do something with him, but the little brat was five years younger and all he talked about was his stupid math! If he at least could have been like Tommy, Mike's little brother. He was a nuisance as well but at least you could play ball with him or play police and robbers. But with Charlie - oh, you could play, but within fifteen minutes into the fun he would start babbling about numbers and statistics. And that was no fun at all._

_"Donnie, please?"_

_"Go away, Chuck!" Don growled, glaring at the door._

_"Charlie? Your father needs your help with the kois, Honey," he heard their mother tell Charlie._

_"But Mom, Donny..."_

_"Go, Charlie," their mother ordered gently._

_Relieved, Don heard Charlie's little feet moving away, descending the stairs. At last. His relief was short lived though. _

_"Don, open your door."_

_He refused to move._

_"Donald Eppes, you open that door now," his mom repeated._

_He knew that tone. He better moved before she used all three of his names. Grudgingly, he stood up and moved to open the door. He went back to his bed and sat down, his back towards his mom._

_His mom sighed. "Don, I know you are disappointed that we're not going to Sea World this weekend but that is no reason to let that out on your brother."_

_He snorted. "Why not? It's his fault!"_

_His mother approached him and sat down beside him. "No, Don. It's not as if Charlie chose to win this award or had any idea that the ceremony would be this weekend. And I promise you, we will go next weekend instead."_

_Don drew up his shoulders. "Please, Mom. Something else will probably come up. Or we spent too much money on our trip to Boston so we can't go to Sea World as well. And you know, Charlie participated, didn't he? He had to know he'd win. He _always_ wins. I bet he had it all calculated so he knew exactly that the ceremony was this weekend!"_

_His mother was silent, which surprised him a little. He would have bet she'd reprimand him. She always did when he vented over Charlie._

_"Do you really think that, Don?" his mom finally asked and there was a sadness in her voice that made him feel uncomfortable. "That Charlie would do something like that on purpose?"_

_Once again, he refused to answer. _

_"Oh Donnie, don't you know by now that your brother adores you? That he would never do something to disappoint you?" his mom sighed. _

_"Yeah right," Don answered bitterly._

_And still - he remembered last week when Charlie had come flying into his arms after Don had won the baseball game for his team with a home run, yelling at the top of his lungs that this was his big brother and that he was the world's greatest baseball player. That had been nice. Damn, actually, that had been pretty much cool. He had never seen or heard Tommy cheering on Mike like that. But of course, a few hours later Charlie had to tell him how his math told him how Don could have been even better._

_He startled when suddenly, his mom got up and held out her hand. "Come with me, Don."_

_Stubborn, he ignored the outstretched hand._

_"Don."_

_Then again, the last thing he needed was to get grounded on top of it all. Reluctantly, he got up - still refused to take his mom's hand though. He wasn't a small child like Charlie anymore after all. _

_Rolling her eyes, his mom led him out of the room, down the stairs and out through the back door. Quietly, they entered the garage. _

_Confused, Don looked around himself, then back at his mother. "What are we doing here?"_

_But his Mom held a finger to her lips and motioned him over to where she stood at the open gate. Once he joined her, she pointed towards the pond where Charlie and Dad were sitting. _

_He was about to ask what was going on when he heard Charlie cry out. "But, Dad, it's my award! Why can't I decide if I want to go get it or not? They can send it with the post like they did it with the British award. I don't want to go!"_

_Don frowned._

_"Charlie, this is important. You said yourself that this award is a pretty big thing," their dad told Charlie. "Besides, didn't you tell me only two weeks before that you hoped you would win so you could go and see Boston?"_

_"But I did win and that's what counts. I don't need to go get the award, they'll only ask me endless questions again or showing me around all the time. Sea World would be so much more fun! And Donnie promised me we would go swimming with the dolphins. Please, Daddy, let's go there."_

_Their father shook his head. "No, Charlie. It would be impolite not to go, especially as they were kind enough to cover for our expenses for the voyage." He stood up and laid a hand onto the top of the curly hair. "We will go to Sea World another time. And you'll see, once there we will surely have much fun as well."_

_Charlie looked up and with his father's broad back out of the way, Don could see the tears and unhappiness on his little brother's face, causing his heart to twitch. "But, Daddy, Donnie, he..."_

_"Charlie, Don is a big boy. He'll understand," their father interrupted him in his final tone and with a last pat went back inside._

_Charlie stared after him, his lips trembling, then turned abruptly to curl up into a tight ball beside the pond. There was no doubt left that Charlie clearly wasn't happy with their father's decision or words. Don watched the small shoulders of his brother shaking and suddenly felt a large gulp in his throat._

_From behind, his mom slipped her arms around Don and held him tight. "I know that it's not always easy for you to have to deal with Charlie's gift, Baby. That you've got to make concessions that your friends don't have to make. That Charlie isn't like other little brothers. That he isn't even like you or me or Dad. But the math, those numbers, they are a part of Charlie, Donnie, and yes, it makes him special. Different. But, Donnie, you need to understand that Charlie can't help to be like he is and that it's not easy for him either. And that despite his gift, he is still just a little boy. A little boy whose only and best friend is his brother. You heard him: he wanted nothing more than to go to Sea World and swim with the dolphins with you. It wasn't his choice to go to Boston instead." She turned him around to look Don into the eyes, her eyes soft but serious. "Now, do you still think that Charlie wanted to ruin the weekend for you on purpose?"_

_Don bit his lips and shook his head. No, no he couldn't believe that anymore. And with the anger gone, he now felt guilty for being so harsh to Charlie. It was still unfair though._

_His mom smiled at him, smoothing his hair back. "Good. I knew you would understand. You are growing up so fast, Baby."_

_He scrunched up his nose and ducked his head. "Mom!"_

_Her smile got bigger for a moment, but then she turned serious. "I am sorry that you have to cut back for your brother sometimes, Donnie. But please, don't blame Charlie for it. I know it's not that easy. Just try to always remember that your brother is a gift and just _because_ it's so hard with him sometimes, it's an even greater gift, okay, Donnie?"_

_Don wasn't quite sure if he understood his mother completely, but he thought he caught the gist of it, so he nodded._

_"Okay," his mom said and, with a last caress of Don's cheek, stood up. "Well, I should get back to the kitchen if you guys want dinner tonight. Any special wish?"_

_His stomach growled in response and he looked up hopefully. "Can we have steaks and baked potatoes?"_

_To his delight, his mom nodded. "Steak and potatoes it is," she said grinning and with a last glance towards her youngest, went inside._

_Slowly, Don turned around to look back at Charlie who was still silently crying, judging from the way his shoulders still shook. He looked down and buried his hands into his pockets, shuffling his feet uneasily. This wasn't what he had expected. He had counted with Charlie beaming and bragging about his award, not crying his eyes out and even raising his voice towards their father. Charlie never raised his voice. _

_And all that because he wanted to go to Sea World as well?_

_From somewhere deep inside, there was a voice silently whispering to him: No – because he wanted to go with _you _to Sea World and swim with the dolphins. Because _you_ wanted to go._

_He sighed, reluctantly accepting that. For a moment longer he watched his little brother before he slowly walked over and sat down beside him._

"_Hey, Chuck."_

_The curly head dug deeper. "My name's not Chuck," Charlie sniffed._

_Don shrugged. "So… You won another award, huh? Which one?"_

_Now Charlie shrugged, his head turning away. "I'm sorry," he whispered._

_For a moment, Don was startled. "Sorry? Whatever for?"_

_A shudder ran through the small body of his brother. "For winning. That I messed up your weekend and we won't go to Sea World."_

_Suddenly, Don felt two very strong emotions. First, guilt for more or less blaming Charlie for exactly the same thing and second, anger, that this so called gift of his brother had not only brought him to do that but that it had also brought Charlie such obvious pain. He didn't know what to do with these strong feelings so he did the only thing he could think of: something he hadn't done in a while. He reached out and pulled Charlie into a short but tight hug, releasing him quickly to ruffle his hair. "Jeez, Chuck, don't think so much of yourself," he laughed and shrugged. "We'll go to Sea World next weekend. Besides, I heard Boston's pretty cool as well. Hey, and we'll get to fly. I mean, it's at the other coast, so sure we'll fly." He grinned at that thought. "I can't wait to fly. It must be so cool!"_

_Charlie finally looked up and he stared at his big brother with those big brown eyes, full of confusion and hope. "You really think so? You don't mind us going to Boston this weekend instead of Sea World, Donny?" he asked tentatively, his voice small._

_Don swallowed and nodded, still grinning. "Positive. Come on now, let's play some basket ball until dinner's ready."_

_His face lightening up like that ball at New Year in New York, Charlie jumped up. "Really?"_

_Don just gave him an exasperated look. As if that was such a big deal._

_But apparently it was, because a second later the thin arms of his brother were thrown around his neck and Charlie's body was pressed tight against the much broader form of Don. "I love you, Donnie. You're the best brother in the world!" whispered Charlie into Don's ear._

_Awkwardly, but with a strange but fierce warm feeling in his chest, Don returned the hug briefly and patted Charlie's back before pushing him away. Not bothered at all by that and all traces of tears being gone, Charlie flashed him a huge smile before dashing towards the garage to go get the basket ball. For a moment, Don stared after him, contemplating what had just occurred, until Charlie emerged with the ball in his arms. _

"_Come on, Donnie!" Charlie urged him on, heading toward the basket ball basket their Dad had installed for them a few months ago._

_All thoughts leaving Don, he raced after his brother._

_His last thought though was that Charlie wasn't that bad a brother after all._

_(End Flashback)_

"Don!"

He blinked, coming out of that memory with a heavy heart.

'_Oh Mom'_, he thought painfully. And Charlie…

Growing aware of three sets of worried eyes resting on him, he took a deep breath and forced himself to get a grip. Right. Right.

"What?" he asked harshly, dimly noticing that his voice still didn't sound like his own.

"They are ready to bag Ch... the body and haul the wreck back to the labs," Megan said carefully, as if she expected Don to break down any moment.

His chest tightened for a moment.

_It's not him, it's not him, it's not him._

Taking a deep breath, he reluctantly stepped away from the car with the body inside, unsure of just how much time had passed since he and Megan had arrived at the scene and for the first time grew aware that the sky had darkened and the group of spectators had loosened up while some of the CSI guys were already packing up their things again.

Damn.

He must have spaced out quite a bit.

The coroner moved past them and spread out the black body bag, proceeding to carefully lift the burnt remains out of the car, not quite succeeding though. The right hand was still dangling from the wheel.

For a terrible long second, Don lost his mantra and panic pushed him towards the edge of a bottomless black pitch, filled only with his pain and screams of rage and devastation.

_It's not Charlie!_

He hurried to reassure himself with gritted teeth and the panic slowly ebbed away. But the brother's confidence had suffered a serious crack, he could feel it. He needed to find Charlie. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold onto his fierce belief that Charlie was still alive and not being bagged at this very moment.

As long as he could believe that this wasn't Charlie, he would manage, Don knew that. But he sensed that as soon as he was loosing that belief, that hope...

No, he didn't want to think about what would be then. Or rather said, he was too afraid to think about it. He had always thought he was a sensible man, one who never gave up, no matter how hard the obstacles were and one who, if pushed to choose, would always do the right thing. With Charlie gone though, murdered... He wasn't so sure if he could still live with himself after he would be through with the bastards who had taken his little brother away from him. Oh no, he wasn't even going to _think_ about that right now. Besides, it wasn't going to happen. It wasn't Charlie after all.

He took a deep breath and finally addressed his team. "You know what you have to do. Question witnesses, get all available footing you can find, talk to your buddies in other agencies and the LAPD. Talk to Larry and even Charlie's students if necessary. I want to know where he was and with whom he was for the past two weeks." He nodded at the car wreck and the black body bag lying beside it. "Get them to put a rush on this. Even if it's only a fiber, I want to know everything they can find in the car and on the body. Oh, and get in touch with traffic control. We need to find out where the car came from." His fingers were still fisted into a tight ball. He didn't seem to be able to unclench them anymore. As if he let relax them it somehow was like letting go of Charlie. But that wasn't going to happen. Never. He stared at Megan. "That okay with you?" he asked neutrally.

This time, he wasn't in charge. Probably the most important case he ever had to solve and he wasn't in charge. Sure, in Merrick's position, he probably would have made the same decision. But he wasn't. He was just an agent with a missing brother. A brother for whom its best was done to make him believe that his little brother was dead.

Megan nodded. "Of course." She hesitated, biting her lips. "And what are you going to do?" she finally asked tentatively.

Don stared past her at the news vans gathered beyond the crime scene tape. "Going home," he answered flatly, refusing to let the despair and dread he was feeling at the task ahead of him show in his voice. "I need to tell Dad before he learns of it from the news."

* * *

Alan paused, staring at the picture he had just dusted. After his beloved Margaret had died, he hadn't been able to dust them without pausing, halting, remembering - grieving. After a while, he had managed to just dust them then move on and nowadays, that was the common thing.

Still, from time to time, he would dust them or even only walk by and something called to him, to pause, to go back the memory lane.

He stared at the picture of his late wife, one of their boys under each of her arms, Charlie, still small and bony, despite already almost as big as his mother on the left, and Don, already big and broad to her right, all three obviously happy and he wondered what had caused him to pause this time. He took in his eldest, how even on this picture from his early college days he already had that unwavering air of confidence around himself, and couldn't help but marvel at how wonderful a man and person Don had turned out to be. Disciplined, protective, selfless, passionately fulfilling his duty for the people, regardless of what the job cost him all.

Yes, Alan was very proud of Don and even though he could definitely live without the constant worry he was in, he wouldn't want anything else for Don. He knew that his eldest loved his job, that was why he was so good at it and when he thought back at his son's childhood, he couldn't help but think that it was predestined. Don had always been good with people, always at the center of a group, usually the favorite and more often than not the leader. He hadn't always played by the rules, only when it counted, but perhaps it was just his hang for the mischievous that made him understand the criminals better in order to catch them now. And of course, Don had always been protective, a side of him that had come out to stand out starkly after his brother had been born. True, he and Margaret had always encouraged Don to look out for his younger brother, especially after learning of Charlie's amazing gift for mathematics. Perhaps a bit too much. Then again, he knew that Don would have always looked out for Charlie even without the incentive from his parents. From the first moment on when Charlie had stooped crying after a seemingly endless night of crying to open his eyes, see his brother and smile, reaching out for him with his little arms, Don had been hooked, grabbing the little hand and holding on to never let go again.

Well, almost. Alan was more than aware that his two sons had had a time in which they had drifted apart that started tight in the time frame this picture had been taken in, when both of his sons had set out to college, ready to conquer the world, Don at eighteen and Charlie at tender thirteen years old, a drift between them they had only started to kit lately.

His eyes wandered over to his youngest and he felt the old doubts coming up. Often, he and Margaret had worried if they were doing the right thing, supporting and promoting Charlie's gift like they had, letting him have tutor after tutor instead of letting him attend a real school and then later sending him to high school and college with kids almost twice his age. They had tried to give Charlie as normal a childhood as possible - but really, how much normalcy could you give a young mind that was able to calculate mathematical problems even the experts had trouble with? Not much. In the end, they had had the choice to either let him have a normal childhood or to let his impressive mind blossom and fly. It was mostly Margaret who had insisted on the latter, and as she had always seemed to understand their youngest a lot better than Alan, he had trusted his wife's instinct in that matter.

Still... Charlie had missed out on so many things and though it looked as if Charlie was happy with his parent's decision, Alan couldn't help but wonder. Especially when he looked at Charlie's life and saw how little friends he had, at least from his past, or the scarce good memories he could tell the few friends he had nowadays. On the other end, he thought, gazing at the adolescent boy smiling up at his mother in a way he only had ever smiled for her and that had died along with Margaret, Charlie too had turned out to be an impressive man and person. Not just because of his expertise in his field that seemed to know no boundaries, but because of his passion and strangely unique way to look at the universe. He had dedicated himself to help, similar to his brother, though in an entirely different way. As a teacher, he helped young minds discover the mysteries of math and Alan had it from various good sources that Charlie excelled at that task. As a mathematician, always eager to find new ways for his math to help improve the world they lived in. And finally as a consultant, working for law enforcement like the FBI, helping put criminals behind bars and save lives.

Yes, Alan was very proud of both of his sons. Now they just had to get their act together on the personal side, find themselves a nice young lady and finally start giving Alan the grandchildren he hoped for. The lack of them was really the only thing he had to complain about with his sons.

He shook his head and reached out to caress his wife's face, feeling the loss her death had left behind with a sudden heaviness. God, how he missed her, her sparkling laughter their sons had inherited, the silent support she always gave those she loved, the unquestioned love she brought in all of their lives. If it weren't for the boys and his promise to her, he didn't think that he would have had the strength to go on after her death. But he had survived it and as much as it saddened him, it mostly got easier with each day. Sometimes though the devastating loss would overwhelm him, making his heart clench.

"Oh, Maggie," he whispered, having to close his eyes for a moment in order to get back his bearings - his will to live, even with his precious wife gone.

So far, he never had given up and he had no intention to do so anytime soon. His boys still needed him, especially Charlie. His mother's death had nearly destroyed his sensitive baby boy, there was no other word for it, and though he was slowly healing, Alan knew that his son wasn't ready to loose the last parent he had. Or his brother for that matter. And Don... He didn't worry as much about his eldest, but then he did like to think that even his badass FBI agent of a son still needed his old man from time to time. Besides, he had all kinds of embarrassing stories to tell his future daughters-in-law and grandchildren.

That was, if those two loners would finally see the light.

With a snort, he moved on in order to get the housework done. He was just about to add a finishing touch when he heard a familiar car door slam, emanating a smile from Alan. He really had no idea how Don did it, but he sure had a knack of knowing just when to arrive in order to get a good free meal. Not that Alan complied. This way he knew that his eldest at least sometimes got some real food to sustain him. He made a quick trip to the kitchen to see how his goulash was forthcoming and wasn't surprised at all to find out that it was almost ready, with only mere minutes left. Now all that still missed was his youngest to come home and they would be ready to have a nice family dinner. Hearing the house door softly opening and closing, he headed out to greet his son with an amused smile.

The smile died instantly at the first look Alan got of his eldest. It was all it took to know that something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

"Donnie?" he asked quietly, stepping towards his son.

Don lifted his head, avoided to look at him though. That alone made Alan's heart stop with cold dread, an irrational fear for his youngest suddenly filling him.

"What happened?" he asked sharply, crossing the last distance between himself and Don. When Don still wouldn't answer, he gripped his son's shoulder and forced him to look up. The look in his son's eyes let him almost stagger back.

No. God, _no_...

Not his baby boy.

Alan's breath hitched as wild panic started to settle down.

_Not Charlie..._

But there Don was, his shoulders slumped, his eyes raw and swallowing, as if he had trouble to speak. And Alan _knew_ that there was only one thing that could render his usually so strong son into such a desolate state.

_Charlie..._

"Dad," Don finally managed to say in a croaked voice. "Charlie..."

His voice broke and with it, Alan's world crashed down.

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: First of: Thanks again to my beta for checking my writing. And then: sigh... Ah, I love writing the dramatic parts, with tragedy looming above everything... Hope you enjoyed it as well. More soon. In the meantime, thanks for the wonderful reviews! It's not the only thing that keeps me writing - but it sure has a part of it as well, all this encouragement! Thanks.)_


	7. It's not him

**Chapter 7: It's not him**

Don stayed in his determined mind until he was halfway to Pasadena. The closer he got to his childhood home though, the more doubts started to hit him, causing his carefully built up shield against complete and utterly despair to crack and crumble. By the time he pulled into the driveway, his fierce belief that it wasn't Charlie, that he hadn't just witnessed Charlie being bagged and transported to the morgue - well, it wasn't so fierce anymore and that caught up with him.

For five minutes he sat in his car, unmoving, slumped over the steering wheel, breathing hard, trying to fight back the panic again, to gain back some control over his emotions. He needed to get a grip of himself, damn it. It was bad enough that he had to go in and tell his father that Charlie's car had been blown up and that Charlie was still unaccounted for. He couldn't break down on top of that. He needed to be strong, calm, give his father the reassurance that everything was going to turn out fine.

But was it really? What if it _had _been Charlie after all?

_No!_ No, it wasn't him. It couldn't have been him! Don would _know_. He was sure he would know it if it had been Charlie or not, he would be able to feel it. If it had been his little brother, if he had lost him - he'd know. Simply because his heart would have been ripped out then and there. But his heart was still in his chest, albeit hurting, but it was still beating. He still felt complete, not devastatingly empty as his brother's loss would leave him.

_It's not him._

Right. Right. Don took a couple of deep breaths and leaned back, his arms falling down. His eyes caught sight of the basket ball rack and unasked, flashes of the past conjured up in his mind. Him and Charlie at that day he had already remembered earlier, playing until their mother called them inside for steaks and potatoes. The first time they had played out here, Don showing Charlie how to hold the ball, how to triple, how to throw him, his surprise at how good Charlie turned out to be, and joy to at least have something normal he could do with his little brother. Their game after their first day of high school together, Don mad like hell but calming down somewhat while playing with Charlie, reminding himself that it wasn't his brother's fault that he ended up in the same year as Don. Their last game before they both headed out for college, when they had played the whole night, saying goodbye, making a silent promise to not let distance change their brotherhood. Or then that time when Don's confidence had been shattered after he had started to doubt that he had brought the right guy behind bars, ruining an innocent man's life, and Charlie had come out to play with him, giving him new hope.

Pain assaulted him like he had never experienced one before, so strong that he actually had to moan, closing his eyes that burned with tears again and once again having to calm down his breathing, his arms crossed over his hurting chest.

_Please, Charlie, please be okay. You have to. It's not you._

But even if that body hadn't been Charlie, where was his little brother then? Why wouldn't he pick up his phone, why had no one seen him for the entire day? The thought that his brother had been kidnapped instead of blown up did nothing to calm his fear. But he'd be alive. And as long as he was alive, there was hope.

And as he was alive, because otherwise Don would _know_ it, there _was_ hope and now, all Don had to do was to find his little brother. Then kill him personally for scaring his big brother like that and having him go through this hell.

Three deep breaths later, Don felt himself in enough control to face his father, so he reopened his eyes and swiftly got out of the car, marching up to the door, perpetually avoiding to glance at the basket ball rack again. He hesitated another moment, his hand hovering over the knob, but then took another deep breath, repeated his mantra and quietly entered his childhood home. Soothing warmth engulfed him like it always did and what made him call this still his home, despite the apartment he owned but barely ever saw. It was quiet but Don could feel that his father was home, there just was this air of - family present. A delicious smell waved from the kitchen but for once, Don couldn't find any appetite in himself. This house was an oasis of quietness, of happiness, of rest - of peace. It was a happy house, despite their mother dying right here. Somehow, just that made this house perhaps even more peaceful. Today though he brought fear and grief to this house and he hated it that he had to be the one to taint this invaluable pool of constant warmth.

With a heavy heart he softly closed the door and slowly walked into the living room.

His father came out of the kitchen with a smile on his face. Don stopped, rooted to the place, unable to speak and he watched as the his father's smile died instantly, instinctively sensing that something was wrong.

"Donnie?" he asked, stepping towards Don.

Don lifted his head but didn't answer, couldn't. He had seen that smile die, had heard his father's gentle voice calling his childhood name, and all composure he had scratched together crumbled down into ashes along with his belief and his hope until he was left defenseless against the panic that had tried to overwhelm him since he had gotten that phone call from hell.

_Charlie..._

"What happened?" his dad bellowed but Don just couldn't answer him, couldn't tell him that Charlie...

_No..._

Suddenly he felt himself being shaken, a hard grip on his shoulders, forcing him to look into his father's eyes, unable to hide the terrible news in his own eyes anymore, confronted with the growing fear in his father's.

He tried to speak, but his voice still wouldn't work. He tried harder, knowing that he owed his father the truth, that his dad needed to know. Finally, a word managed to come over his lips. "Dad." He wanted to close his eyes, unwilling to see what his next words would do to his father - to their family. Instead, he held his father's panicked eyes. "Charlie..." His voice broke and try as he might, he couldn't say anything else.

In front of his eyes, his dad paled as his eyes grew wide, wild with panic, with dread, with grief.

He couldn't watch this any longer. Bowing his head, Don closed his eyes. "He... His car... Dad, he's... I... I can't... I don't know..." his voice died.

The next thing he knew was feeling his father's soothing hand on the back of his head and his father's voice talking to him. "Donnie, shh, it's okay. Just tell me what happened to Charlie. Tell me what's wrong with your brother." A brief pause in which Don slowly raised his head again, looking up at his dad, feeling part of his panic grow back. "Please, Donnie. I need to know. Charlie... What happened?" his father urged him, his voice hitching a bit in the end.

Don took a painful breath and nodded miserably. His dad was right. He needed to know. "I'm not - sure, Dad," he admitted. "I... got a call. Charlie's car..." He had to stop.

His dad waited but before Don could continue to tell his father just what was going on, they were interrupted by an all too familiar voice.

"Dad? Don? What happened?"

Don's head snapped up. There was his brother, standing just outside the kitchen, staring at his father and brother with wide, worried eyes. His breathing, unharmed and very much alive little brother.

"Did someone die? Stan? Uncle Artie? Aunt Irene?" Charlie asked hurriedly, taking a step towards them, his eyes dark with concern and apprehension. "Is it one of your team? Don!"

With one big stride, Don was over by Charlie and had his little brother engulfed in a bone crashing hug, too relieved to hear the little yelp from Charlie as the air was literally squished out of his lungs and pressure was applied onto yesterday's graze. He buried his head into his brother's neck, deeply inhaling his scent, so familiar in his mixture of musk, aftershave, chalk and sweat. So precious.

_It's not him._

Don buried his hand into Charlie's hair, bringing him even closer to him, tightening his grip. He wasn't sure if he ever wanted to let him go again. He wasn't sure if he could ever go through anything like he had in the past few hours again. But most of all, he didn't give a damn about who was watching his reaction. He didn't give a damn that at the moment, he was not the master of his emotions, that any sense of control had slipped him.

All that counted was that he had his baby brother in his arms, well and alive.

"Thank God," he whispered, further tightening his hold.

"Don." The muffled voice of Charlie echoed in Don's ears like an angel's choir, him not remembering ever having heard anything so sweet.

His brother was alive, was right there in his arms, so close that he could feel his breath on his neck, his heart beating against his own. Charlie was alive. He hadn't been burnt to unrecognition when his car had exploded right under him, he wasn't in a body bag on his way to the morgue, he wasn't being autopsied right this moment. It wasn't Charlie. He hadn't lost his little brother.

"_Don!_"

This time there was some urgency in his brother's voice and Don grew aware that he could feel Charlie straining against him. Oh. Reluctantly, Don let his brother go somewhat, still keeping him in his arms though, just drawing back enough so that his brother could breath again. He stared at his brother's relieved but confused face, trying to memorize even the smallest wrinkle and closed his eyes as a new wave of indescribable relief flooded through him.

Thank God indeed.

His one hand still buried into the dark curled mess of Charlie's hair and his other hand resting on the back of his brother's neck, he leaned his forehead against Charlie's. "I love you, Charlie. Never, _ever_ do something like that to me again. I can't lose you," he declared quietly, surprised at how easy these words came over his lips. The Eppes men and he especially didn't talk feelings, let alone easily. Normally. But this time circumstances were anything than normal.

He hadn't told Charlie that he loved him since... he couldn't quite remember since when, but it had been sometime during their childhood. But after these past few hours, after having to battle against the possibility that he had lost his little brother forever for what felt now like an eternity, after his brotherly instinct having to stand up against what evidence was thrown at him - after feeling how devastating the loss of Charlie would be for Don, feeling that edge coming closer and closer, that black pitch of nothingness... He needed to tell Charlie, needed his brother to know and hear just how much he meant to Don so he would never do this to Don again, so Charlie would understand that he simply couldn't die, not now, not as long as Don lived.

"I love you," he repeated, with even more force.

He felt Charlie's hands gripping his arms and he opened his eyes to stare into his brother's dark eyes, even more confused than before and with something akin to fear now present there as well. "Don... What on Earth happened?" he asked, frowning. "And what did I do?"

Don leaned back a bit more, his eyes narrowing. As sudden and overwhelming the relief had come at the sight of his brother, unharmed and alive, as sudden rage now filled him and like with the relief, he had not the slightest incline to hold back now either.

"Yeah, Charlie, excellent question: What exactly is going on here? And where the _hell_ have you been these past few hours, huh? Do you have any idea what I've been going through this afternoon? Do you have any idea how many times I tried to reach you?" he yelled, his hold on his brother tightening once again. He may be furious now with Charlie, but long not ready to let him go. Besides, this way he could guarantee that Charlie wouldn't escape. Charlie was going to tell Don what mess he was involved in _now_. "You want to know what happened? You _died_, that's what happened!" Don hissed, shaking Charlie a little. "You hear that, Charlie? You _died_! I thought you were dead. Are you happy now? I thought I lost you, you idiot, I saw your body, I saw them bag you for God's sake and you have the nerve to ask me what you did do?" Charlie had paled and he could feel him shaking in his hands. Don didn't care. "Have you any idea what hell I've been through, thinking that I might have lost you forever? Have you any idea how damn much that thought hurt? God, Charlie! What the hell were you thinking, vanishing like that, not picking up your phone, not leaving any note about your whereabouts, letting your car blow up. What? Did you think I wouldn't get notified? I'm your brother! I'm with the FBI! Who do you think they called first after confirming the license plate?! Did you think I just wouldn't care to learn that my brother's car got blown up with a body in it that matched your description?! What the hell, Charlie! Why didn't you call me, damn it? And you'll tell me what the fuck is going on or I swear to you, I'll kill you myself. What if it had been you, huh? What if you had died in that car today and not that poor bastard?" He was back to shaking Charlie again, all the pent up fear and panic of the past hours catching up with him with a vengeance. "You'll never do that to me again, you hear me, Charlie? Never! You tell me where you are, each minute of the day, you'll always have your cell with you, charged, and you'll pick up when I call you, no matter what and you _will_ tell me what is going on, security level be damned. You got that, Charlie? Or by God, Charlie, I'll cuff you and lock you into your precious garage for the rest of your life, throwing away the key!" Don didn't notice that he was himself shaking or that the fear he had felt was plainly showing on his face, in his eyes, in his shaking voice. "Damn it, Charlie, say something. Talk!"

His eyes as wide as they could get, Charlie stared speechlessly at his big brother, totally taken aback at his uncharacteristic and total loss of control.

"_What?_" he asked finally, aghast, his voice small.

* * *

The moment his youngest had suddenly appeared by their side, Alan felt his knees go week with unspeakable relief and he staggered towards the next chair, sinking down listlessly. He wanted to go embrace his baby boy and never let him go, but Don had been faster than him and it looked as if Alan had to wait his turn.

Charlie was alive. Charlie was unharmed.

Thank God.

He couldn't have dealt with the loss of his youngest, he just couldn't have. Nor with Don's but he hadn't just the life scared out of him in fear of Don's life.

His eyes fell upon his boys, both of them alive and well and once again he sent a silent prayer heavenwards. Don had Charlie still in his arms, held tightly against him and Alan could see the confusion and surprise on Charlie's face. No wonder. If anything, his eldest was the master of showing no emotions. For Don to lose his precious control like that - frowning, Alan studied the back of his son. Whatever had happened or whatever Don had thought had happened, it had shaken him to the core and he suspected that Don would have a hard time accepting the fact that anything could get to him like that. With a small smile, Alan shook his head. He knew his son's job required from him to distance himself from his cases, to not allow emotions. What his son still had to learn was that strong emotions could also be strength, fuel. And that showing his family emotion was not a weakness.

A strangled sound from his youngest made him come back out of his thoughts and he was surprised to see that Don had even tightened his hold on his brother, apparently to the point that breathing got a little difficult for Charlie.

Indeed, whatever had happened must have been very disturbing for his strong eldest.

Alan was just about to tell Don to let his brother go when Don drew back on his own account, not letting go of his brother though, only leaning his head against Charlie's, whispering something to his little brother that Alan couldn't get. It must have been something big though because Charlie's expression showed nothing but shocked surprise.

As obvious as Don's distress was that apparently, Charlie had no clue as to what was going on. Technically, nor had Alan, but he had seen Don before Charlie had shown up, had witnessed how Don had tried to tell him something he definitely didn't want to say and it was easy for Alan to guess just what Don had almost told him. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he imagined what would have been if it had turned out that Charlie was...

He knew he probably wouldn't have survived his baby boy by long, him just not strong enough to deal with another devastating loss of a loved one, his son. What did surprise him though was to discover, that he wouldn't have been the only one to not bear such a loss again. Not that he hadn't already known that Don loved and needed his little brother more than he was aware of - but he still had thought that even losing Charlie would not break his strong, confident son. After seeing the devastation and pain in Don though just before Charlie had joined them or witnessing just now how overwhelming his eldest' relief was at seeing his little brother in good health, he wasn't so sure anymore.

At that moment, Don started yelling, his relief obviously having turned into almost uncontrollable fury, finally a typical emotion from his son, and Alan's eyes snapped open, listening intently, knowing only too well that he was bound to learn more about what had happened to cause Don to have an almost breakdown than he would once Don had calmed down - and clammed up once again like it was typical of him as well.

He didn't like what he learned, not one bit.

Someone had blown up Charlie's car? With someone looking like Charlie in it, causing every one close to Charlie to believe he was dead? Who on Earth would do such a cruel thing? And what was this about Charlie being involved in something he refused to talk about? Security level? What in Heaven was going on in his youngest life that brought on such malice?

And - did that mean that Charlie was still in danger? Was someone lurking out there, intend on killing his baby boy?

"Damn it, Charlie, talk already!"

With difficulty, Alan focused back onto his sons, pushing the fear and the questions away - for now. Don still had Charlie in a vice grip, shaking him and slowly, apart of the confusion, pain started to register in Charlie's eyes.

Time to intervene.

"Donnie - let your brother go," Alan spoke, his voice thinner than he liked.

But Don hadn't heard him - or didn't listen. Instead, he continued to shake Charlie. "I want to know what mess you're involved with, I want to know the names of those idiots who dragged you into it, to hell with who they belong to, and you, you Charlie, you won't leave my eyesight again, not for a second, you hear me? And if I'm not with you, then two of my agents are with you, is that clear? No discussion!" Don's hold tightened, his knuckles standing out white by now.

"Donnie!" Alan called out to him again, pleased to hear that his voice had gained strength.

Not that his son seemed to pay him any attention, his focus obviously solely on his brother alone. "I am _never_ going through anything like this afternoon again, Charlie!" He glared into his brother's eyes with an intensity that not even a laser could match. "Two days, Charlie. Two days in a row I get the call that you're hurt. First you've been shot and now you've been blown up. I don't want to find out what I'd be told tomorrow. This ends now," he hissed and by now, he was gripping his brother so hard that this one let out a small, inaudible yelp.

Alan heard it none the less and swiftly stood up, all the way frowning. _Shot?_ Had Donnie said Charlie had been shot? But he pushed that question away as well. First, he needed to stop Don. He could understand Don's relief turned anger but it would serve no one if he killed his brother now in his relief. "Don - let go of your brother," Alan ordered in his best dad-tone, putting a hand onto Don's shoulder, squeezing hard. "Now."

Don blinked but slowly, he came aware of how tight his hold on Charlie was and quickly let him go. Charlie remained where he was, staring at Don in a daze.

"Sorry, Buddy," Don growled, "but I..." he shook his head.

"Someone blew up my car?" Charlie finally spoke, his voice strangled, unbelieving.

Don nodded grimly.

"With someone inside?" Charlie asked even more unbelieving.

Again, Don nodded, his eyes flashing again.

"And... And you thought it was me?" Charlie struggled to say.

His face dark, Don nodded again. "That was the general consumption from everyone," he answered and Alan knew instantly that there was more to tell about that. He kept silent though, not wanting to interrupt this awkward version of twenty questions.

Charlie's frown grew bigger. "In the garage?"

"No, in the middle of West Temple Street, in plain sight for everyone," Don replied, barely controlling his temper. Then his eyes narrowed. "Which garage?"

But Charlie didn't gave an answer. "How could this happen?" he murmured, more to himself.

It was the wrong thing to say.

"Gee, I don't know, Charlie," Don said icily. "Perhaps because you idiot got involved in something that's obviously way above your head and you still refuse to talk to me so I can get you out of it before things escalate like this. But of course you wouldn't listen. You never listen!"

Now that was the wrong thing to say as well.

Charlie's eyes snapped back into focus and he glared at his big brother. "I'm sorry you got such a scare today, Don, really, but I told you to keep out of this. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I _am_ a grown up, you know?"

"I've got news for you, Charlie: Getting shot at and getting your car blown up is not doing a very good job at taking care of yourself. But it sure is a fast way to get you killed!" Don gave back heatedly. "Now stop being such a complete and stubborn fool and finally start answering my questions!"

"I told you I can't! I'm sorry, Don, but you _know_ that I simply can't!" Charlie flared up.

"To hell with it!" Don snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, someone obviously has it in for you and I for my part I'm pretty sure that next time, it will be you who's dead and not some poor bastard who had to give it up for you! Now talk!"

Charlie paled and guilt flashed up in his eyes, but he still shook his head. "No, Don. No. I can't tell you. If this is related to what I may be involved with at all. And you know what? If it is, I don't want to tell you. This is not an FBI investigation and the less you know, the better."

"It is now," Don contradicted. "My brother gets targeted, it damn well is my concern."

"No, it is not," Charlie said quietly and turned away.

Don's eyes narrowed and his hand shot forward to grab Charlie's arm. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Charlie looked back at him. "I need to make a phone call. Now let me go, please."

"Sure, _now_ you can suddenly make phone calls," Don replied sarcastically. "What was this afternoon when I desperately tried to reach you when I first got an anonymous call that you're in danger, followed by another call to tell me that you've been blown up together with your car, huh?"

"I left my cell in my car, Don," Charlie answered, tightly. "The car wouldn't start, so I left most things in it and then took the subway to come home. Then I went out for a ride. Now please let me go."

"A ride?" Don asked incredulous. "I go to view yourcrime scene, watch how they bag a body that could be you and you were out on a _ride_?"

"Don, I had no way of knowing what happened," Charlie reasoned. "If I had known, I'd have made sure to let you know. You know that."

The pleading in his voice must have gotten through to Don as Don let him go, shaking his head.

"Thanks," Charlie nodded and reached out to squeeze his brother's arm - then turned, walked over to the phone and walked with it up into the solarium.

Don and Alan watched him disappear up the stairs. Finally, Alan turned towards his eldest. "Care to fill me in in what is going on here?" he asked, his voice betraying that Don better didn't try to refuse an answer.

Still, Don shook his head. "In case you haven't noticed, Dad, I have no idea either," he declared bitterly.

But Alan wouldn't have it. "You still know more than I do. What's this about Charlie getting shot?"

Chagrined, Don avoided his father's eyes. "It was nothing, Dad. I just... heat of the moment, you know?" he replied, even tried a crocked smile.

"Forgive me, Donnie, but I don't think your brother getting shot is 'nothing'," Alan protested, not leaving his son out of his eyes.

At last, Don met his eyes. "Charlie's fine, Dad. And I really don't know what is going on. So you'll have to ask Charlie." His eyes drifted upstairs. "Good luck with that," he added sarcastically and headed towards the door.

"You're leaving?" Alan asked, perplexed. Now was not the time for Don to leave!

"I need to inform my team about the developments," Don just answered though and the door fell shut after him with a loud bang.

Alan looked from the door to the stairs and let out a big sigh. Sometimes he really wished his sons hadn't gotten that damn stubbornness from their mother. Or her temper for that matter.

* * *

"What do you mean, it's not Charlie?" Megan asked, very hesitantly.

Don ignored it and simply explained. "The body's not Charlie. Charlie's home."

A moment of complete silence. Then, even more hesitant: "You sure about that?"

This time, Don took offence. "Yeah, I think I can recognize my own brother, Megan."

"Sorry," Megan immediately said. "It's just..." her voice trailed off.

"He's fine," Don said in order to change the topic. "He had had no idea about what happened."

"He gave you any hint about _who_ may have been behind this?" Megan asked, all business now.

Don stared ahead. "No."

"Or why his car was blown up?"

"No."

Megan sighed. "Did he tell you anything at all?"

Don closed his eyes. "Not really." He hesitated. "Then again, I might have been a bit - unreasonable. We didn't really have any chance to talk," he admitted, not liking to have to tell this Megan. But she was still an agent. A profiler. His partner. She'd have figured it out anyway. And she was in charge for the moment though Don had every intention to talk to Merrick about that in the morning.

Sure enough, Megan chuckled. "I bet." Before Don could say anything else though, she went back to business. "We need his statement."

Don nodded, his eyes glancing back at the house. "I know."

"But I'm sure we can wait until morning for that," Megan continued. 'Leave you some time to settle. And talk', was the unsaid message.

Don got it loud and clear. "I'll bring him in in the morning," he agreed. "And please see to it that a couple of agents keep an eye on the house as of now."

"Sure," Megan assured him. "And Don? I'm glad that Charlie's okay. Give him and your father my best."

"Thanks, Megan," Don said quietly.

"I'll inform David and Colby. Boy will they be glad to hear the good news. I'll see you two in the morning then," Megan said.

"Yeah, bye," Don said back and with a deep sigh, put the cell phone away, leaning against the car, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted.

This day...

He felt as if more than just a day had passed. Actually, it felt more like a decade. He sure felt a lot older - or as if that decade had been taken off his life.

So close. It had been so close. How easily it could have been Charlie. How close had he come to lose his little brother forever? If that body really had been Charlie...

But it hadn't been him. Charlie was alive. He was just inside the house, he was safe.

Frustrated, Don ran his hands through his hair. No. No, he wasn't safe. As long as they didn't know just what the hell was going on, his brother was _not_ safe. As long as they didn't get that sick bastard responsible for all this, his little brother was still in danger. He could still lose his brother. What almost had happened today could still happen.

No! No, it wasn't going to happen! Don wouldn't let it. No one was going to take his little brother away from him, _no one_! They first had to kill him, damn it. But he wasn't going to let this happen either. No matter what it took, Don was going to find the sick bastard and make him stop.

And then Charlie would finally be safe again.

Now all he needed was for his little, boneheaded brother to stop being a complete idiot and let Don handle this. Starting with Charlie telling Don all he knew to begin with, followed by what he thought was going on.

Right.

Right.

Slowly, Don turned around, facing the house with a glowering stare.

He couldn't believe that Charlie still refused to talk. Couldn't he see that this had gone beyond whatever problem Charlie had with him? They were talking about Charlie's life for Heaven's sake! And consequently, also their father's and Don's life. Because if they lost Charlie... After today, Don had no doubt that if that would ever happen, they would be lost as well. Why couldn't Charlie see that? Why couldn't he understand how essential it was for him to let Don handle this from now on, letting him do his job, as an agent, as a brother?

But no, of course not Charlie, not his genius brother who probably was going to kill himself one of these days with his damn stubbornness.

Yeah well, his brother could maybe be a hell of a lot stubborn - but so could Don. And in a battle of willpower with Charlie, he was still fairly certain that he would come out as the winner. He always had, so far. Okay, most of the time at least. Surely half of the times.

Right.

And best to start with it right now.

With a small nod, Don pushed away from his car and walked back up to the house, determined to face down his brother and make him talk, no matter how long it would take.

His father looked up when Don came back in, heading purposefully towards the stairs and it was all it took for him to comprehend what was going on. "He's gone to the garage," he simply said.

Don gave a small nod, redirecting his step. He should have known it. After all, the garage had been Charlie's refuge ever since coming back home for good. And his sanctuary. And his hiding place. And for a while, even his prison, Don thought darkly as he strode through the kitchen to the back door and out, towards the garage. It was only natural that Charlie, after learning of today's event and the scene with Don, would once again flee to the garage. But if he thought he could escape Don's questions by doing that, he was wrong. They were going to talk, rather Charlie was going to give his brother some answers and that was that.

No argument, no choice.

He was not going to let Charlie get himself killed.

He had just opened the door to the garage for perhaps an inch when Charlie's voice stopped him, making his hand go automatically for his service piece.

"What are you doing here?"

Charlie didn't sound pleased at all, neither scared though. Silently, Don removed the safety and carefully crept closer, forcing his breath to go steady and calm.

"I came to look for you, see if you're all right. And to tell you about a little incident with your car. I couldn't reach you by phone," an unknown voice answered, calmly.

"Ah. By incident, you don't mean by any chance someone blowing up my car, not to forget with someone apparently matching my description sitting in the driver's seat, do you?" Charlie asked equally calm, sarcasm heavy in his voice though. And anger. Don could definitely hear the anger.

Realizing that Charlie was in no immediate danger, Don lowered his gun, stayed put though, having no intention to move or make his present known, having every intent to eavesdrop though. It looked as he may have a chance to learn a bit more about what was going on. And most importantly, who had gotten his little brother into this mess.

"Charlie..." Careful now.

"Oh no, Noah," Charlie interrupted him, definitely angry now. "Don't you Charlie me. Did you also know that the police called Don? My brother thought he was called to my crime scene, Noah. This isn't a joke anymore. My family was made believe that I had died!"

"Chap..."

"You know, I can take the other crap that happened over the past two months, the letters, the mails, the calls, the break in into my office, the road hate, even last week, when those bikers tried to push me off my bike on the way to CalSci. And hell, I can even take being shot at like yesterday if I absolutely have to," Charlie hissed, his voice tightly controlled. Outside the garage, Don's heart pounded in his ears. _What_? "It wasn't too funny, but at least it was only directed at me and though I've been in a tight spot for a short while, I knew that I wasn't in any real danger. At least not for the moment. But this, Noah..." Charlie sighed and Don could picture him shaking his head. "I know it's very important that I complete the job you've given me, but honestly Noah, if this sick joker has now gone over to play his dirty mind tricks even with my family... I'm this close to quitting, Noah."

Don nodded involuntarily. His brother should have quit at least two months ago, from what he had heard. Or better yet, never have accepted the job in the first place. And how was it possible that all those things had happened to his little brother without him picking up on him? A break in? Road hate? Harassing letters and calls? That incident with bikers? According to Charlie's words that had been going on for two months and Don hadn't noticed anything at all? Noticing that his grip on the weapon tightened, he quickly put back in the safety and then returned it to the holster. He wouldn't need it. If it came to an argument with that guy in there with Charlie, all he'd need were his fists.

"Charlie, I can understand you, really, I get it..." This Noah guy started to say.

"Oh, you do?" Charlie was back to sarcasm.

There was a little moment of silence. "Your brother wasn't the only one who hadn't known if the body was you or not when that car went up, Charlie."

Don frowned. Was this guy seriously implying that he had felt anything like Don had after getting that call from the police? The hell!

"I activated your tracker in order to gain sureness and I tell you, I was never so glad that we convinced you to keep this tracker than today. You're probably my best friend. And the closest thing to a partner I've ever got," Noah said quietly, causing Don to strain to understand him. What he did hear rendered him speechless. A tracker? Best friend? _Partner?_ "So yeah, I think I've got a pretty good idea of just how serious this is."

Charlie's silence was almost deafening.

"I'm sorry, Chap, but you can't quit now. That's just what they want, that's why they do their best to scare you off, to manipulate you like this," Noah tried to reason. "If Kovlav breaks that code, if Vision not only gets all the data but also the access to..."

"I _know_!" Charlie interrupted him, sounding defensive.

"Look, we'll do our best to get the guy who makes your life a living hell. We already have a team on your father and friends and I've asked a friend of mine in the FBI to keep an eye on your brother. And you'll have to stick it out with me from now on. Something like today won't happen again, Chap," Noah promised.

Don suppressed a snort. Charlie though hadn't any such restraints. "I think I've heard that before. After the thing with the bikers for example. Next thing I know I'm being shot at. Actually, I believe it was only this afternoon that you basically promised me the same thing. And what happened?" Don heard Charlie move, coming closer to the door and, from what he had figured out, to Noah. "Tell me one thing, Noah: My car was in the garage of the headquarter. I took the subway and left my bag in it because the motor hadn't started and I figured I'd be back sometime tonight anyway. A short time later, my car exploded in West Temple Street. How's that possible, huh? And I bet the rights to one of my programs that somehow, the video footage didn't get snitch. Neither of when that bomb had been placed, nor by whom, nor how someone else than me drove my car out of the garage. Am I right?"

Noah didn't answer.

"Right, I thought so," Charlie said, with bitterness in his voice. "Whoever is behind this, he either has access or at least has a guy inside the operation, Noah. How, under such circumstances, can you guarantee me that nothing else will happen? A guy died, Noah." Now, there was nothing but anguish in Charlie's voice and Don straightened. "Some poor guy probably was simply told to go fetch that car and bring it to location B, his only fault that he may have had some resemblance to me. Or perhaps, he was an actor. And now that guy is dead, because someone out there has it in for me. Worse even, this time, he also attacked my family by making them believe it was me in that car. God, Noah, I've never seen Don so distraught, not even when Mom died. I can only imagine how bad it must have been for him," Charlie finished and both the guilt, worry and distress in his voice got to Don and suddenly, he wasn't angry with Charlie anymore at all.

"Okay, then go under," Noah told him, more forcefully.

Charlie was quiet for a moment. "You mean witness protection."

Once again, Don felt panic swept up inside him at those words. Witness protection? No! No way!

"I don't like it much either, but maybe, it's time to seriously consider it. Not a full out, at least not yet, but let us bring you to a safer place, a place only known to me, Jean and Bob. From there you can finish your work, we'll see to it that you'll have everything you'll need," Noah said.

"First of all, I neither like the idea of running, nor am I willing to leave my family at this point of time, especially after what happened today," Charlie refused out flatly, to Don's surprise, if he wanted to be honest. He always had thought Charlie to be a runner. And frankly said, as long as he could stay with his brother and it wasn't full out Witness Protection, he thought going under wasn't that bad of an idea. "And second, it won't work anyway. To complete my research I need a supercomputer and no matter how far away you'll haul me, for a guy like Kovlav it would be easy to find it. I'm good at hiding my work from the world and mostly it wouldn't be a question, but not with Kovlav. He's too good for that." Charlie's voice was grim now, making Don wonder just who this Kovlav was. And what history was there between him and his brother, because it was clear to Don that there was an history. He could hear it in Charlie's voice and choice of words. "Plus, there's something else you're forgetting."

"Then why don't you enlighten me, Chap," Noah growled, clearly unhappy with Charlie. Don couldn't help but grin. He sure knew that sentiment. Sometimes, his brother could be a heck of annoying.

"The FBI's now in on this as well. I may have not gotten all the facts from Don, but I got as much. Kovlav won't be the only one to look for me, should I suddenly disappear from the face on Earth," Charlie said simply, a smile in his voice.

Don nodded. Damn right.

"That's not a problem. If necessary, Bob will call Merrick," Noah contradicted.

"It still won't stop Don," Charlie only said quietly.

"No, it won't," Don confirmed, pushing the door to the garage open, leaning against the frame and taking a good look at this Noah, ignoring Charlie's startled expression and questioning frown that turned to a full out pissed off frown in no time.

Noah looked relaxed to an unschooled eye, but Don's eye wasn't so it was easy for him to spot the muscles tensing as the guy turned toward him, the almost unnoticeable widening of his stance, the small jerk of his left hand towards his holster, the way too alert and calculating eyes. After having determined that no immediate danger was present, the guy smiled. "You must be Agent Eppes."

Everything in the tall, blond guy with his cold blue eyes screamed danger at Don and he had no doubt that he was facing a professional. Probably ex-military, probably Special Forces and most definitely a suit. The only question left was just what kind of a suit he was. Well, he'd find out soon enough. But first things first. Smiling himself, Don moved forward, careful to not send off any threatening signals. Noah watched him approach, his every move, but he stayed put and did not step back when Don stopped right in front of him.

"And you must be the one who dragged my little brother into this mess," Don said pleasantly. "I was looking forward to having a word with you."

Quick as a snake, he drew back his right arm and let it shoot forward, his fist connecting with the guy's jaw in a beautiful and most satisfying right hook, sending the obnoxious bastard flying back.

Yep, that had felt _good_.

* * *

TBC!

_(Author's Note: Come on, you didn't really think I'd kill Charlie! Not that I'm not capable of it, but surely not in such a story! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I sure did. Thanks for the tremendous reviews, loved every one of it. I'm not quite sure when I'll be able to get out the next chapter, as soon, I'm going to Spain for three week of holidays - and without any internet access. But don't worry, if I don't manage to get it out until then, surely when I'm back in September.)_


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